


Purify the Darkness

by He11sDomain



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, M/M, Overprotective, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 79,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/He11sDomain/pseuds/He11sDomain
Summary: Grimmjow is a wealthy businessman, Ichigo is a prostitute with a dark past. Their paths cross, and Grimmjow's curiosity toward the man is unwavering. Can Grimmjow save him? Does Ichigo want to be saved? Eventual GrimmIchi. Contains prostitution, rape, and abuse.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo, Nnoitra Gilga/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 83
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

My first Bleach fanfic (coming to you in the ripe year of 2020). Many dark themes are present, including prostitution, abuse, and rape. If such a story is not for you, I completely understand and am not offended.

But if you enjoy the disturbing, twisted darkness that acts as the foundation of this plot, then please proceed, and enjoy.:)

Disclaimer: Starts out a smidge slow.

XxXxXxX

Life…it was a bitch.

Every day for the last seven days that has gone through my head, and I didn't see that changing anytime soon.

I strutted into the building with minimal expectations. The lobby was surprisingly clean and uncluttered, and the receptionist gave me a dreamy look I blatantly ignored.

Everyone here seemed cheerful and jolly and shit. It was annoying.

I ended up here because the higher-ups noticed this particular branch was collecting less revenue than the other departments. Because I was the best at what I did, they put me in charge. Giving me more work to do…what a pain in the ass.

I walked past the receptionist and took the elevator to the seventh floor.

If I'd been nervous I would've rehearsed any introductions or kind words I'd been intending to spew out. The elevator was empty, and nobody would've known.

But, like I said earlier, I was the best. I had no reason to be nervous.

The elevator dinged and I stepped onto the floor. The person in charge of this particular department was Stark Coyote, a man known for his indolence but was nevertheless exceptional at what he did. I sneered. Wasted talent.

He met me at the front of the office and we said our greetings. "Nice to meet you," "pleasure doing business with you," blah blah blah. It was all bullshit, and I didn't take any of it seriously.

I was shown around the department and introduced to many of my new coworkers. It was boring as fuck but eventually, _finally_ , I was getting moved into my new office.

I walked into my new room, carrying a box of my belongings. I whistled in approval at the spacious area. It was evidently the biggest one on the floor, and I didn't complain one fucking bit.

I was unpacking my things when I saw a shadow on the floor near the front of my office. A man with long black hair and bangs swooping over one eye was standing at the entrance. He wasn't smirking, but it was close. His teeth were ugly and looked like fucking piano keys, and I did my best not to stare. Or laugh, because the temptation was strong.

He walked into my office. "Hi," I said awkwardly when he still hadn't spoken.

The man stood before me, giving me a creepy smile as he extended a hand. "The name's Nnoitra, nice to meet ya."

I nodded, taking his hand firmly into mine. "Pleasure."

I didn't introduce myself, but in retrospect that probably would've been appropriate. Everyone here knew me. Hell, I showed up on the fucking news on a consistent basis, but that didn't mean I was better than them. I can still introduce myself like equals.

The man named Nnoitra didn't seem bothered, though, and he lingered around, watching me organize my belongings.

"Where ya come from?" he asked.

I pulled out several files, arranging them alphabetically and then in terms of importance. "Kyoto."

Honestly, I thought everyone already knew that. Whether I liked it or not, I was essentially, annoyingly, the celebrity of business.

From the corner of my eye I saw Nnoitra's gaze widen—huh, he didn't know, after all—, and he suddenly stepped farther into the office, plopping down onto a chair.

"That far, huh? So you don't know about any of the…entertainment in this town?"

I blinked, glancing in his direction. What could he be referring to? "What?"

His expression was distorted by a sly grin, and I was starting to regret asking.

"There's this one prostitute that's like a fuckin' _god_ …"

I rolled my eyes.

So this guy's a fucking pervert.

He continued, oblivious to my inner monologue and blatant disgust. "He has the wildest hair, but it looks good, ya know? Bright like the fucking sun. And the sounds he makes, oh _wow_..."

Nnoitra droned on and on, and I started to drown him out. I wasn't into prostitutes, and I sure as fuck wasn't into guys. I liked sex, sex was fucking great, but only when my partner had huge tits and a vagina.

Nnoitra was still talking by the time my thoughts faded, and I tuned back into what he was saying. "Whadda say, can I bring him?"

I blinked uncertainly, my mind speedily working to understand the question. He'd been talking for a solid ten minutes before I decided to pay attention to the fucker. He wanted to _bring_ his prostitute bitch somewhere? Where?

I pondered. Hm. He was possibly referring to the welcome party the office was evidently throwing for me. I was 90% certain it'd be boring as fuck, and I couldn't imagine how a prostitute would make it be, well, not boring.

More than that, I didn't like the concept of prostitution. It seemed so…dirty. Gross. Sad. I liked sex, but I didn't like the idea of all those kids participating in something like that out of necessity. I doubted most of them were prostitutes by choice. What kind of harsh lifestyle did you have to live to force you into something like that?

I was about to decline when I saw the look on Nnoitra's face. It was fucking filled with anticipation and excitement and everything I was starting to not like about this guy.

Fuck. I mentally sighed. "Sure."

Nnoitra pumped his fist in the air, that sick grin appearing as he thanked me then ran out of the office. I thought I heard an excited, "you won't regret this!" but I was beyond caring now.

It was only day one, and this Nnoitra was already starting to bother me.

XxXxX

The day passed by in a blur. A lot of my workload consisted of organizing materials and getting up-to-date on the company's managing facilities. This branch was lagging in revenue compared to my other, but it was still doing well. Better than I expected, I guess.

That night I gathered supplies into my briefcase and pulled on my jacket. Nnoitra and the other employees had already said their goodbyes, and I took the elevator to the first floor.

I walked through the sliding doors, breathing in the fresh air. I looked up at the sky. The moon was a mere crescent, and the city lights obscured any stars that may have been out.

I breathed contently. Even without stars the darkness felt welcoming. Despite the chilling breeze I felt comfortable. I couldn't help the small smile that appeared on my features.

I turned the corner and suddenly I was colliding with a hard body. I looked down to see the body rebound off my chest, stumbling backward. Without thinking I grabbed his arm, steadying him before he fell on his ass.

The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was a bright, bright orange. His bangs hung low on his forehead, and his hair stuck out in a spastic but oddly appropriate manner. It framed his face well.

The expression on his face looked surprised, but it was too delayed for it to be about stumbling into me. Was he surprised I reached out to help him?

I vaguely wondered why he would be surprised by something like that.

"Sorry," the kid muttered, allowing me to steady him. I nodded, discreetly giving him a once-over. He was a few inches shorter than me, and even with a hoodie I could see his muscles defined and distinct. Looking at his face he couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen, but his eyes, they were so…dull. Old.

I didn't want to know how that was possible.

"You okay, kid?" I asked, less concerned about him almost falling and more concerned about the injury I just noticed on his face. I didn't even realize as I reached out with a gentle hand, barely grazing the bruise that mottled his jaw.

The kid immediately pushed it away, and I noticed the hand that hit me had a long gash running along the middle finger. Why the fuck did this kid have so many injuries?

He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, and I absently wondered what other injuries he was hiding.

"I'm fine," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving past me.

My eyes widened slightly, turning to watch him leave. _What an ass_. Based on the absolutely nothing I knew about this kid, he seemed wary, distrustful, _rude as fuck._

I huffed. Fucking kid. What he needs is to get laid.

XxXxXxX

Later that night I couldn't help but think about the kid. I sat in my apartment, sipping on a beer and staring at the blank television, eyes simmering.

Who was he? Fucking kid, he treated me like I was _nobody_ , just some random fucking joe on the street. Most people greeted me with eager handshakes and, if you were a woman, tight hugs, slippery tongues, and hopefully a fumble back at my place.

But this kid? No, he wasn't like that at all. Our first encounter and he was sneering at me. I'm surprised he didn't fucking spit on my shoe.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Maybe I was thinking about him because he was so different than everyone else I had met.

Part of the day replayed itself in my mind, and my thoughts reverted back to my coworker Nnoitra. He'd been talking about a prostitute. From the little I listened to the physical description matched the kid surprisingly well. Wild, bright hair, "like the sun" or some shit like that.

But not a second later and my mind had rejected the theory. There was _no_ fucking way that kid was a prostitute. The kid I ran into, he was too… _proud._ He screamed strong, fierce, "don't fuck with me." I couldn't even imagine a kid like that selling his body for sex.

I leaned my head against the back of the sofa and growled. Why the fuck was I still thinking about this?

I looked around the room at my apartment. The kitchen and living room were setup as one spacious room, and I looked around at all the random shit I had. I wasn't finished moving into my apartment—there were fucking boxes everywhere—, and the thought of unpacking them gave me a headache.

I had a lot of shit to unpack, but at least the necessities were complete. The fridge was stocked with beer, the flat-screen was set up, and my bed was made.

And that was all I needed.

It was only 9 o'clock and I grabbed another beer. I turned the TV on and propped my feet onto the mahogany table before me.

An hour later and I got a text inviting me to drop by at her place for a quick fuck. Just reading about how "wet" she was made my pants tight.

Five minutes later and I was outside hailing a taxi.

All-in-all, it was a good night.

XxXxXxX

The second day of work was just like the first, and I went to bed feeling aggravated and too fucking exhausted.

I was a very, _very_ sexual being—I proved that to myself on a regular basis—but _this_ was too much. I wasn't gay. Why did that guy have to be so gay?

Whenever Nnoitra had come into my office earlier today it'd only be to talk about his prostitute. And it was nearly a nonstop barrage, and he had dwindled down my self-control to the size of a toothpick. I wasn't sure how much more I could handle before I threw his head into the nearest wall then out my window.

Frustrated, I fiercely scrubbed my still damp hair with a towel. These next few weeks I'd have to step up my game. The faster I finished up work here the faster I could go back to my own branch.

I tossed the towel into my laundry hamper. Moving through my spacious bedroom I decided to go commando for bed tonight, just to change things up a bit. My precious junk needed to breathe, and what better way to allow that than free-balling it?

The lights were out, and I was nicely tucked in when I heard noises from the neighboring room.

First of all, what the fuck? I was living in a top-class apartment complex. Why the _fuck_ were these walls thin enough for me to be able to hear what my neighbor was up to? Second, was that _moaning_ I heard?

As tired as I was I couldn't help but listen intently, trying to decipher the sounds.

"Ah, _ah_!" After a moment, the thumping of skin-on-skin was outrageously obvious. My neighbor was fucking someone and, by the sounds of it, it was another guy.

I was actually kind of impressed, though. I'd met my neighbor—Barragan Luisenbarn, or something like that—once when I first started moving in, and he was not a pretty man. He was three hundred pounds of old and fat.

And now he had successfully bedded another man?

Fuck. If I got surrounded by any more homos I was afraid I'd start becoming one. Like, what the fuck?

The groans coming from the fuckee were actually kind of hot, my dick twitching, and that immediately told me enough was enough. I'd give my neighbor a stern talking to later but, right now, earbuds.

I retrieved them and placed them snugly in my ears. This would suffice.

And, if I had to sleep with earbuds ever again, I'd make sure to shove them up my neighbor's ass next time I saw him.

XxXxXxX

The days past by, and suddenly it was Friday, the day of my stupid celebration party. It was the middle of the afternoon and I could already hear everyone setting up for it. These fuckers were on the clock, and they were _fucking around?_

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I'd let it be. Everyone seemed really excited, and I didn't want to be the fucker that ruined it.

But to be honest I wasn't that thrilled about it. I was mainly going for the beer, maybe to chat up a pretty woman. Meeting the coworkers was great and all, but I'd be doing that every day all day for the foreseeable future. No need to throw a party to prolong the damn thing.

I turned in my chair and stared out the window. I wasn't looking forward to when Nnoitra brought his damn prostitute, either. It'll be some gross-looking, syphilis-riddled whore that has a face as ugly as Nnoitra himself.

I sneered. I was just ready to get the meet-and-greet over with. Nnoitra will probably flaunt his ugly ass then just as quickly leave to fuck him.

Huh. I'd only known the fucker a week and I already hated his guts.

Time passed and I dutifully continued my work. I wrote an email to the Sections Manager and sorted out some of the shit he'd already messed up on. Fucker.

Looking at the log, though, everyone seemed timely with his or her schedule. Even Nnoitra was decent. Which surprised me. A lot.

A timid knock resounded on my office door. "M-Mr. Jaegerjaquez?" a hesitant voice called out.

I waved her in, then remembered she couldn't see me. "Come in."

The door opened and a petite female with mediocre features and dark hair appeared. I think her name is Hinamori, but I didn't want to fuck up and say the wrong name.

Her cheeks were tinted pink, and she played with the hem of her dress. "We-We'd like to celebrate you j-joining our team. The party starts in a few minutes i-if you're interested."

I looked at the clock. _8:26pm._ I whistled, that late already?

"Sure, I'll be right there, cutie."

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and I probably just made her panties wet. "O-Okay!" she said frantically, hesitating before she closed my door and scampered off somewhere.

I sighed. Time to get this over with.

XxXxXxX

An hour past and nothing of significance has occurred. I've drunk a couple beers, gotten a few numbers, but other than that it's been uneventful.

I took a sip of my Jack Daniels. I'd rather be lounging around at home than be forced to suffocate at a lame-ass party. Fuck, I'd rather be _working_.

Watching everyone, they seemed to be having a lot of fun, though. There was a karaoke, and some girl with huge tits falling out of her shirt was singing (more like screaming) into a microphone. A beer was resting in her other hand, and I was positive she was drunk off her ass.

"Grimmie! Come meet the beautiful sex god I've been tellin' ya about!"

_Grimmie?_

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Oh god. Nnoitra.

Ignoring the stupid nickname, Nnoitra was still a fucking pain in the ass. He didn't understand I didn't care, and he didn't understand I had actually grown to detest him at a very rapid rate. That was uncanny, even for me.

I turned to meet his gaze, and suddenly my feet were frozen. I couldn't take my eyes away. No matter what I did all I could do was stare.

W-What…

The kid.

How?

The bright orange hair was just as spastic and bright as I remembered it. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and the sneer on his face was ever-present. The bruise on his left jaw had faded. His eyes acknowledged me but didn't seem to care he'd run into me before.

I could feel myself staring, and I swiftly schooled my features. It didn't matter, none of it mattered. So the kid was a prostitute. I guessed wrong, whatever.

They were standing directly in front of me now, Nnoitra's arm wrapped possessively around the kid's waist. His head was bent to sit neatly beside the orange-haired kid's, and I felt repulsed when his tongue slipped out between his lips.

"His name's Ichigo. Wanna give him a try?" he asked as he petted the kid's arm.

I watched the kid Ichigo's expression. It had been an indifferent sneer, but now it was a blank canvas devoid of emotion.

Nnoitra's fingers were slipping under Ichigo's shirt and teasing at the thin skin. My stomach flipped over and over. This was disgusting. This was absolutely disgusting.

I hated Nnoitra more than I've ever hated anyone.

"No, I _don't."_

I was usually exceptional at masking my emotions, my anger, but for some reason, right now, I could feel it slipping. Who did this fucker Nnoitra think he was?

The boy named Ichigo was watching me with an odd glint in his eyes. The blank canvas was gone. Was that a subdued version of curiosity in his eyes?

I couldn't blame him, I was curious, too. Why was I reacting like this?

Nnoitra seemed entirely unperturbed, wrapping the arm tighter around the kid to lead him away. "A'ight, but if ya change your mind lemme know!"

I stared at their backs. The hand holding my Jack Daniels wouldn't stop shaking. What the fuck, did I suddenly develop tourrette's or some shit?

I put the glass in my other hand and took a huge gulp. Time to distract myself and socialize.

XxXxXxX

Turned out the socializing was boring and significantly less distracting than I anticipated. I mean seriously, what the fuck is up with these people? Boring motherfuckers. The only pleasant thing about tonight was watching Rangiku's rack as she took a turn at the karaoke.

I was bored as fuck and there was a sizable portion of rage tickling my spine, but I ignored it. I continued on with this damn party, strutting over to the makeshift bar area to refill my Jack. I socialized with people that annoyed me and flirted with women that weren't my type.

Currently I was with Hinamori, who was talking to me as she shyly twirled a finger through strands of hair. She was discussing her plans for the weekend, and I think she was subtly hinting that I go to her little cousin's birthday party with her. Fucking insufferable, this chick.

A coworker Shuuhei appeared beside me, and I nearly got on my knees to thank him. We quickly began discussing business. Hinamori didn't seem appreciative of the intrusion, but she was too timid to say anything. She just remained by my side like a fucking puppy, listening as Shuuhei and I conversed.

Half an hour later and I was finally, _finally_ , free from humans. No one came to talk with me, and Hinamori went to "use the little girl's room."

I swallowed the last of the Jack I was allowing myself for the night—I had zero intention of getting drunk—and glanced around the room. My eyes spotted orange hair, and they immediately focused on it.

Nnoitra and Ichigo were sitting in chairs lined up along the wall. No one was directly beside them, and both of them had glasses in their hands (though it looked like the kid was drinking…water?).

While one of Nnoitra's hands brought the glass to his lips, the other was sliding along the inner part of Ichigo's thigh. The kid didn't outwardly react, but I could tell his body was rigid, unyielding as he kept his back straight and gaze on anything but the man next to him.

Nnoitra leaned in until he was basically fucking eating the kid's ear, and he whispered something I couldn't hear. I barely caught the shiver that bounded through Ichigo's body.

Suddenly a guy sat down in a chair on Ichigo's left and started talking with Nnoitra. I was curious, more than curious, and was finally about to walk over there when a woman lithely stepped into my path.

It was the big-breasted Rangiku.

"Grimmjow…are you enjoying the party?" she purred, running a delicate finger along my sleeve.

"I am, thank you." I didn't want to be curt, but she was definitely interfering with more important matters.

The finger continued traveling back and forth along my forearm. She waved her other hand carelessly. "This has been… _fun_ and all, but…do you wanna take this somewhere else?" Her mouth was contorted into a sly, feral grin.

If it were any other time, I wouldn't have rejected her even in my dreams. But oddly, her tits that were the size of Mars and her dress that barely covered her thighs didn't register in my mind.

I knew I had the reputation of being a womanizer—and it was an appropriate reputation—, but fucking this woman was not on my to-do list right now.

I excused myself with some lame apology, walking past her and surging toward where the kid Ichigo had been.

All three chairs were empty, and I fought the growl that threatened to erupt.

Where the fuck did they go?

Twenty minutes later and I collapsed into a chair with an angry snarl, defeated. I hadn't found Ichigo, but I sure as hell found all the people I wasn't interested in chit-chatting with. I'd forgotten this party was technically thrown _for_ me, so everyone wanted to congratulate me and welcome me. It was flattering, but it was also stupid as fuck.

Another person sat down beside me, his body facing in my direction. His lips were moving, but I wasn't paying attention. This guy was some nameless nothing. I didn't care about this person. Did he even work here? I didn't recognize him at all.

I absently glanced around the room, looking for something, anything, to take my mind off this random guy.

My eyes stared in surprise when I noticed Nnoitra. Nnoitra, who was grabbing another beer from the cooler, chatting with a coworker like it was the most natural thing in the world. Ichigo and that other guy were out of sight, and I couldn't help but feel dread welling up. Even though Nnoitra was obviously not harassing Ichigo, my gut was telling me to look for the kid.

It wasn't my business, though. I didn't care. The guy sitting behind me was some nameless nothing, and the orange-haired prostitute was _absolutely_ a nameless fucking nothing.

I had to take a piss, so I excused myself from the guy that sat beside me. He was probably embarrassed with how blatantly I ignored him, but oh well.

I weaved through the various people on my way to the bathroom. There were way too many humans in this one area, and I was annoyed with how many coworkers and "plus one's" there were.

I finally reached my destination, barely holding in my sigh of relief as I pushed the door open.

The first thing I noticed was a distinct grunting sound. I blinked, abruptly thrown off-kilter. Was someone bearing down that hard? Talk about a shit being a shit.

But as the grunts continued I quickly determined that couldn't be the source. I quietly turned the corner to see the last stall door slightly ajar, distinct shadows dancing along the tile floor.

The grunting was a loud constant reverberating throughout the bathroom. It sounded like skin ramming into skin, and I heard a faint groan.

I felt my feet move on their own as I edged toward the stall. I opened the bathroom stall, and suddenly my mind went blank.

Ichigo was leaning against the wall, and the guy that had been with him before was situated behind the kid. Both of their pants were wrapped around their ankles, and the guy was violently surging back and forth, back and forth.

My glaring eyes never left the scene, and the nameless fucker gasped and spewed out curses as he noticed me. He pulled out of Ichigo, which made an erotic sloshing noise. The wrinkles that had creased Ichigo's forehead disappeared, and that was enough for me to know my presence was a good one.

The kid slipped his pants back over his hips, but the guy that had been… _touching_ him was frozen in fear. He was holding his hands up in pleading, and his entire body was visibly trembling.

"Y-Ya got a problem, man? I-I _paid_ for this kid, man."

I think he kept talking, but my mind didn't register any of it.

The only thing that registered was Ichigo's neck, and the dark, finger-shaped bruise that now adorned the skin.

No, no…I don't think you _paid_ to hurt him.

I didn't notice as my arm cocked back, and I gathered all of my strength into my fist. I also didn't notice as my fist pummeled through the guy's face, nor did I notice the distinct cracking sound that followed.

The guy moaned in agony, his hands cupping his bloody nose as he wailed. " _Fuck_ , you broke my _nose_ , man!"

"Leave." My hardened gaze penetrated his frightened, cowardly one. "Leave before I break something else."

He whimpered, pants still wrapped around his ankles as he stumbled away, out of the stall and out of the bathroom. He was still spewing curses as he left, but he didn't look back.

The kid didn't seem particularly pleased with my intrusion, his face blank as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He didn't move from his spot, merely staring at the bathroom stall wall.

"Why did you do that?"

I scoffed. As I stared at the bruise around his neck I wondered how he could even ask that. "Are you fucking with me, kid?" He didn't respond, so I continued, angry. "He hurt you. Sex isn't supposed to hurt. Is that not reason enough?"

Ichigo blinked, and for the first time since the fucker guy left he finally looked at me.

Based on his reaction I guessed he hadn't been expecting my response. He seemed surprised, which reminded me of the first time I met him. Was the kid once again that astonished someone actually cared for his well-being?

The kid picked up his hoodie off the ground, pulling it over his head. "No."

"You're a fucking brat, you know that?"

The kid was blatantly unaffected. "And you are involving yourself with something that is none of your business."

I grit my teeth together. I genuinely couldn't believe how hot-tempered he was being with me. I didn't want special treatment for being wealthy or well-known, I fucking _didn't_ , but I still got it. I'd gotten used to the cowardly, spineless sheep that manifested around me. They were automated, thoughtlessly agreeing with me or indulging me just because of who I was.

This kid was being a shit, but he was also different, a good kind of different. He was crass, rough around the edges, but it was like breathing in a breath of fresh air.

I leaned against the stall door with an amused smirk. "You don't have many friends, do you?"

The kid's gaze was intense and distrustful, and I could feel it penetrating through my very being. I wondered if I wasn't the first person to assume that. "I don't need friends."

Damn, he was so damn cynical. What kind of world has he lived in all this time?

"Thanks for saving me." He walked past me, his shoulder clipping mine. "But I don't need saving."

I had no retort for that, and I merely watched him leave.

A few weeks later and we both discovered he was very, very wrong.

XxXxXxX

Completion of Chapter 1 = mission accomplished.

It may have been mildly boring, but it shouullddd pick up and develop more substance next chapter. ^_^ I hope everyone enjoyed! Next chapter will be up Thursday or Friday! 


	2. Chapter 2

I just discovered I forgot to utilize HTML to insert italics into the first Chapter. I have now fixed it. I feel inflection is so critical for a feisty character like Grimmjow haha, so I'm sorry some of you had to read it messed up. 

But it's fixed and I will remember to italicize all future chapters! 

And now, commence Chapter 2!

XxXxXxX

The weekend was relatively uneventful. I had lots of fun, wild sex, but that was the norm, nothing extraordinary. I did a little bit of cleaning in my apartment and unpacking of my belongings, but…who really has time for that shit?

I had done some thinking on the events at the office party, too. At first I had been worried that punching Nnoitra's bitch friend would make it awkward at work, but then I realized I hoped it would. I _hoped_ Nnoitra was pissed at me, so pissed he completely ignored me the rest of my time working there.

I had a feeling that was mere wishful thinking.

Monday came around too soon, and I was currently safely tucked into the quarters of my office. I hadn't seen Nnoitra around yet, and I hoped he'd just ignore me. Maybe my idealistic thoughts were right. Maybe he was so angry that he'd hate my guts and never speak to me again. Maybe.

Without him as a constant annoyance I'd gotten numerous tasks accomplished. Some of the online setup was such shit, and I had to sift through all of it just to relocate or delete half of it.

All and all, though, things were looking up. Shuuhei proved to be a valuable asset and explained to me an organizational pattern he had been considering for the billing. That Hinamori girl had baked me cookies, and they weren't half-bad.

The day was going well but, of course, my good luck couldn't last forever.

It was 2pm, and I was comparing this branch's business operations with my other when someone opened my office door.

Yep. Nnoitra.

Because fucker Nnoitra was the only one that didn't feel obligated to knock. Fucker Nnoitra was the only one that talked nonstop about that prostitute because he was a major pervert.

I glanced at Nnoitra and, goddamn it all, he was grinning. He had that same amused, disgusting grin, and he closed the door behind him then plopped into his usual chair.

"'Sup, Grimmie. I heard—."

"Grimmjow," I replied, my voice cold and immoveable.

He didn't notice my tone at all. "Scuse me, Grimmjow. I heard ya punched my friend at the party the other day. That guy was _ballin'_ mad." He cackled, holding a hand to his stomach. "Ya really showed him."

When I thought about it, I probably shouldn't have interfered between the man and Ichigo. The kid was a prostitute, and whoever that fucker was he had borrowed him from Nnoitra and paid for him. He'd paid for the privilege of having sex with the kid.

Well…I wouldn't call it a "privilege" really. He'd paid to have sex with a guy, how much _privilege_ could it be?

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged, praying to a god I didn't believe in that Nnoitra would go away. "He deserved it."

"I get ya, I get ya." His eyes glimmered with something perverted, and I suddenly eyed him suspiciously. "Sooo…?"

I blinked. "So…what?"

"Did ya play with him?"

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

He held his hands up innocently as he shrugged, but his face looked anything but innocent. "Welll, ya interrupted them while they were doing the nasty so, ya know, I just _thought—_."

I was about to voice my incomprehension again when it clicked. "Wha-What? _No."_ I scoffed. This—this _fucker._ Did I _look_ like I homo to him? Did he _think_ I'd have sex with someone who didn't want it?

Fuck this fucking guy.

Nnoitra held his hands up. "A'ight, a'ight. But lemme know if ya ever wanna tap that. One fuck with him and you'll be hooked for life."

If he hadn't already been standing and walking toward the door I would've thrown my laptop at him. Hell, I would've thrown the fucking desk. I would've done anything to just get him _away._

After he gave a stupid little "toodaloo" and a wave, he closed the door, leaving me to my thoughts.

Thinking about what Nnoitra said made me want to punch him like I'd punched his friend. But it wouldn't be just one punch. No…it'd be a flurry of them. I'd punch until my shoulder dislocated or I passed out from the exertion.

God. I couldn't focus on my work for the rest of the day.

I tried, though, I really did. But every time I looked at my screen I saw Ichigo getting hurt, taken advantage of, or bought. I didn't know him well at all, and he was just some random kid, but this was still affecting me pretty bad. Every time I thought about him I'd have to calm my nerves, focus on not seething in anger and foaming at the mouth.

And that was a weird reaction, right? Honestly, I felt bad for this Ichigo kid, but he also pissed me the fuck off. I hated how much he wanted to refuse help, to be so prideful he'd rather suffer than admit defeat. It was so, it was so _foolish._

After a full hour of futile attempts to work and I decided enough was enough. I was too distracted to get anything done, and I was going home. Screw this.

I said my goodbyes to the few I felt obligated toward, but other than that I was out the door. The elevator took too long so I used the stairs, striding down seven flights then escaping through the sliding doors.

As I walked I contemplated what errands needed to get done. The grocery store was on the way to my apartment, so I should probably get that out of the way. At least then my day would've been slightly productive.

After several blocks the building was in sight, and I walked through the parking lot and into the store. I looked at the numerous aisles. It was your typical grocery store, but maybe slightly bigger than I anticipated.

There was a shitload of stuff I had to buy. I didn't even know where to start, so I just decided to start with the aisle dead ahead. Dragging a shopping cart along with me I began my journey. It was a tedious process, but it was a welcome reprieve from the monotony of work.

I'd been so concentrated on random shit I'd barely gotten my belongings together in my apartment. Not everything was unpacked, boxes were still strewn about in various rooms. It was a pain in the ass, and I really didn't want to deal with it.

So instead I just bought the shit I needed.

I was over halfway done and looking through the ham section when I caught a familiar glimpse of bright, bright orange.

My head spun in shock. How did I keep running into this little shit?

I wanted to confront Ichigo and yell in his face. It was visuals of _him_ that distracted me from my work, it was _his_ fault.

But I found I couldn't move to confront him at all, and before I knew it I was backing up. Seeking shelter I noticed an employee cart to my left that was stacked high with cardboard boxes. My feet moved on their own, jumping behind the boxes before peeking out into the open area.

Ichigo was here, but he wasn't alone. Two little girls wearing school uniforms were with him, one dark-haired and one light-haired.

I marveled at the sight. What…? Were they his sisters?

I couldn't imagine Ichigo caring about anyone but himself.

They walked into the aisle directly in front of me, and I resituated myself for a better view. I acted like I _wasn't_ being a hardcore stalker right now.

The girls stood on either side of Ichigo, their bodies interestingly close to the kid's. Based on observation alone they seemed like a tight-knit family.

They were looking at the various items in the aisle, Ichigo grabbing them when it was too high for the girls to reach.

All I could do was stare in awe. When Ichigo was with these girls he actually had fucking _emotions_. He was fiery, and he bickered with the black-haired girl about what to have for dinner. It was humorous to watch such a trivial argument. The girl was fierce and seemed to enjoy the debate, and I wondered if that's why Ichigo did it in the first place.

My eyes briefly turned to see the other, lighter-haired girl. She didn't participate in the debate, and she seemed more timid, a little on the introverted side. At some point she reached out for Ichigo's hand, as if to hold it, but before it made contact she dropped it to hang by her side. Her cheeks were flaming red, and she was probably embarrassed.

My eyes lowered. She didn't have to look so damn _sad._

Ichigo ended the debate with the dark-haired girl, her cheeks puffed out in annoyance. He turned to face the shy girl now, kneeling down in front of her. "Yuzu, what would you like for dinner?"

Her eyes widened, and she gave a pretty smile. "I want what Ichi-nii wants!"

The black-haired girl huffed and growled and hissed, but her disapproval seemed light-hearted. She threw her hands up with an exaggerated _"fine."_

Ichigo stuck his tongue out—oh god. Are most people's tongues that long?—before grabbing some items and placing them in his basket. One hand held the basket and the other reached out to hold Yuzu's hand. Her face just beamed and, at that moment, she seemed like the happiest kid in the world.

And Ichigo…Ichigo was _smiling._

It was small and barely there, but it was so fucking potent. My heart thumped painfully against my chest, and I couldn't look away. My eyes were fucking glued to his face for what felt like an eternity.

He looked…beautiful.

The trio walked out of the aisle and onto the next one, out of sight from my vantage point. An employee had showed up and was looking at me strangely. I scratched awkwardly at the back of my head, muttering an apology.

I left in the opposite direction as Ichigo, going about my own shopping. Now that Ichigo wasn't in front of me my practical reasoning slowly seeped back. Did I just call him _beautiful?_ Fucking _beautiful?_

I growled, barely noticing a mother glare at me as she brought her child closer.

I stomped down the aisle, my hands in tight fists. Ichigo wasn't beautiful, he was an ugly fucking prostitute. Fuck Ichigo. He was a slut, a shit. A slutty shit. He was nothing to me.

I could feel myself overreacting, but I couldn't make myself calm down. This whole situation was pretty damn gay of me. It was just as I predicted; with Barragan and Nnoitra surrounding me I was starting to get homo vibes.

I shrugged it off, and I forced my anger to seep out of me. I let a smirk creep onto my features.

I was surrounded by fags, but that was fine. It wouldn't affect me. I was Grimmjow fucking Jaegerjaques, a womanizer down to my very bones.

And tonight, I'd prove that.

XxXxXxX

I thought about my trip to the grocery store long after I'd gone home. My groceries were still in a pile on the kitchen counter, and I hadn't made a single attempt at putting them away. I really needed to find myself a new maid. I was too goddamn lazy.

Lounging on my couch I put a cigarette to my lips, savoring the feel. My thoughts unwillingly drifted to Ichigo. I had come to the reluctant conclusion that, sure, maybe the kid was a _little_ attractive. I'd never fuck a little shit like him (after all he had a dick), but he wasn't bad on the eyes. I guess.

It was also interesting that he had, what were likely, sisters. I thought back to how he'd bickered with the black-haired girl and held hands with the light-haired girl. They seemed to have a very close bond, and he seemed to be quite thoughtful. It was… surprising.

Why had I been under the impression he'd just be a selfish brat? He had an attitude, sure. He was defiant, fierce, and he didn't seem like he gave a shit about anyone or anything.

But…evidently that wasn't true.

I absently wondered if his sisters knew what Ichigo did for a living. The bruise that wrapped around Ichigo's neck was faint, but still there, and there was no way that was a naturally occurring injury. Did he tell them the truth?

I huffed, blowing smoke out in one smooth motion. The doorbell rang, and I got off my couch. I hadn't been expecting company.

I opened the door to find a hot, sluttily-dressed woman at my door. I hadn't called for a booty call like I'd intended, but maybe one had nicely come my way anyway.

"Grimmjow…remember me?" she asked seductively, her arm leaning against the doorframe.

No, I didn't, but so what?

I stepped aside to allow her entrance. I closed the door behind her, and she strutted straight to the bedroom.

I quickly followed behind her, and I didn't think about Ichigo the rest of the night.

XxXxXxX

At what felt like the crack of dawn, however, was a different story.

It was probably about four in the morning and the random slut I'd fucked was curled up beside me. I must've been more tired than I realized to fall asleep with her.

And now here I was, wide a-fucking-wake.

Barragan was my neighbor, and his bedroom was located directly beside mine. I could hear him moaning, saying dirty things not even I would say in bed. This guy just reminded me of Nnoitra.

Whoever his partner was must be kinky and gross as fuck.

I didn't give a shit either way. It went on a few more seconds before enough was enough.

I got out of the bed, stumbling in the dark to put some boxers on.

A feminine, slurred voice spoke from the bed. "Gr'mjow?"

I could feel her watching me as I pulled a t-shirt on over my chiseled torso. "We had a great fuck, but it's time for you to go."

That woke her up quick.

_"What?"_ Her voice was angry, fiery.

I could still hear those goddamned noises coming from the other side of the wall.

I grit my teeth and walked out the bedroom door. I called out, "I'll be back in ten minutes. Be gone by then."

I didn't usually give my one nightstands a whole ten minutes, but I was feeling oddly generous.

She spewed out curses as I shut the door on her. I didn't care, I didn't give a fuck. All I cared about was this _fucking_ Barragan ruining my fucking sleep.

I stomped out of my apartment and stopped to stand in front of Barragan's door. I banged on it with a hard fist, loud enough I'm sure I'd wake up other neighbors. But, again, I didn't give a fuck.

I banged again when there was no answer, and finally the door was thrown open. Barragan had a towel wrapped around his waist. His torso was naked, his chest hairs long and curly while his stomach bulged with rolls and rolls of fat. Sweat dribbled down him profusely, and his cheeks were red with exertion.

_"What?"_ he yelled impatiently, because he was clearly busy with other matters.

He had an attitude, but I was fucking Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. You don't _get_ an attitude with me.

"Barragan, I have no problem with your sexual propensities, but for the love of fucking god, I can _hear_ you fucking."

His eyes widened, and his cheeks were now red with both exertion and profuse, profuse embarrassment.

My blue eyes simmered with dangerous intent. "Now you either calm the fuck down with your fucking, or I will cut your penis off to make sure you never fuck again." My gaze pierced into his. "Are we clear?"

Barragan stared fearfully for long moments before rapidly nodding his head. "Y-Yeah, we're c-clear. T-The kid was j-just leaving." He turned to face his apartment and called out loudly, "K-Kid! Get out of here. We're done."

I hid my smirk. Too fucking easy.

I heard the rustle of bedsheets, and I waited for his fuck buddy to emerge. I wanted to witness the hilarity of this fucker's walk of shame.

Maybe it'll teach him a lesson not to fuck with my beauty sleep.

Footsteps padded along the wooden floor, and I watched as an orange-haired kid left Barragan's bedroom. He walked toward us as he zipped up his jeans. He didn't have an expression of shame at all. He was straight-faced, but eyed me suspiciously when he noticed me standing at the doorway.

My jaw was unhinged and my mouth hung wide open. Barragan…Barragan was fucking _the brat?_

That made me angrier than I thought possible. Ichigo was walking toward us, and I yanked on his wrist, pulling him out the door. I slammed Barragan's own door in his face.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo exclaimed as I dragged him down the hall then swirled him around to face me.

I barely contained my voice to an indoor level. Or maybe I didn't, I really wasn't paying attention. "What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck is going on?"

Just earlier today I had seen this little shit at the grocery store. He was being a _normal_ kid just hanging out with his sisters, and now he was doing…doing… _this?_

Ichigo's eyebrow was arched, and he didn't look amused. He reached into his back pocket and pulled four crisp hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket.

I looked at the money and then him in complete horror. Did he have no shame?

"Kid, do you even realize that guy is thrice your age? Do you have a fucking kink for old fatties or are you just that blind?"

The kid was clearly simmering in quiet rage. His eyebrows were slanted downward, and his gaze was piercing. "It's my job. It doesn't matter who the client is. Fuck off."

I should have let the conversation end there. I shouldn't have played devil's advocate, and I shouldn't have argued with him. I should've just turned around and walked back into my apartment and gone to bed.

Hindsight was a bitch.

I scoffed, disgust clear in my expression. I crossed my arms over my chest, not bothering to hide my belittling smirk. "Ha, your _job?_ No, you don't have a job. _I_ have a job."

I took a step forward, looking down at him. I used my height to my advantage. "What _you_ have is a literal dick up your ass and no self-respect." I could feel my nose rise in condescension. "I thought I was a manwhore, but compared to you I'm a fucking nun."

It was around now that I realize I could've handled that better.

But that was the _truth_ , wasn't it? Right? He was a prostitute, a whore. I didn't coddle, I didn't fucking "soften the blow" just because the truth was a bitch. I said it like it was.

He visibly flinched, and maybe…okay, maybe I kind of regretted what I said. I was honestly surprised I got a reaction from him. Ichigo looked sad. He looked _sad._ It barely showed, but it was clear I'd hurt his feelings.

_Of course I did. Just because he always hides his emotions doesn't mean he has none. Fuck!_

He wrapped an arm around his body, as if that would protect him from my words. He hissed, "Fuck you." His voice was low and cold. He shook his head, and his eyes were dark. It was clear I struck a nerve. In this exact moment, I think I hated myself a little.

The kid continued, his cheeks red with shame. "I know I'm disgusting, trash. Nothing you said is something I don't already know."

He took a step forward, and now we were so close our chests almost lined up. I was taller, but he was resolute and uncaring. His sadness turned to rage. "But if you're so appalled by this _trash,_ then why do you keep interacting with it? Leave that trash the fuck alone."

I could feel my eyes widen, his words hitting me harder than I thought they would. The gears in my head cranked harder and faster to comprehend. Why _did_ I keep interacting with him? Why did I so willingly save him from that guy at the party? Why did I discreetly watch him at the grocery store? Why did I even take the time to talk to him now? Was it to be an asshole and belittle him, or something else?

And gods, why did I get so goddamned distracted just _thinking_ about him that I had to leave work?

I didn't know the answers to any of those, but I'd leave it for another time. Or never.

"I fucked up."

The words left my mouth before I gave them any thought. Ichigo just watched me, clearly surprised by my admission. Hell, probably about as surprised as I was. I hadn't apologized to anyone since I was like fucking twelve. And I was about to do it for this kid? Damn, I've gotten soft.

I said again, "I fucked up. I shouldn't have said any of that." Fucking fuck, here it comes…

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Time stood still. The kid stared at me, almost like he knew just as well as I that I apologized to no one. Both of his eyebrows were at the middle of his forehead, and I could tell he hadn't been expecting my admission.

After a few moments, he said, "You have no reason to be sorry. Everything you said is true."

"It's not," I immediately disagreed.

"I'm a prostitute. A whore that sells my body for money."

"That doesn't mean you're trash. That means you're desperate."

He suddenly scoffed. "Che. You say that now." He wasn't looking at me anymore, his gaze never straying from the floor. Beneath his bangs I could see his facial muscles clenched in grief. There was clearly something I was missing, something about him I didn't know.

I was suddenly so damn curious.

I bent down so that we were at eye level. "I say that now, and I'll say the same thing twenty years from now."

"You don't know me."

It was clear we had switched roles. I was fighting for his virtue now. Why couldn't he just let me win? "I don't have to."

He looked up, and his brown eyes stared into my blue ones. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. Instead he searched my eyes, my expression, my everything. He was trying to determine if I was telling the truth.

This kid shouldn't have so much conviction that he was so-called fucking "trash." This kid was observant, seemingly smart, and he didn't take anyone's shit. He needed to believe in himself more. He needed to see himself as more.

He audibly swallowed, and his eyes didn't leave me. He muttered a small, "Thanks."

I lifted a hand and reached to ruffle his orange hair. I was going to do it as a playful gesture, but it was also a subtle attempt to determine if it was actually as soft as I theorized.

The hand was deflected, and Ichigo squinted at me in half-assed annoyance.

I gave him a wry, amused grin, and his scowl deepened.

A plain, cheap wristwatch was wrapped around the kid's wrist, and he pulled it up to look at it. He sighed lightly. "It's time for me to get going."

Wow, the time hadn't even crossed my mind. Fuck, what time was it?

He looked up at me. "Sorry we woke you up. We'll be more quiet next time."

My mind jogged to comprehend what he meant.

My heart skipped a beat. Of course...of course there would be a next time. The kid's life didn't stop, he would still continue with his job.

Barragan. Barragan and Ichigo. Barragan and Ichigo, together...fucking.

I could feel a deep emotion welling up in my belly, and it felt foreign, strange.

I shoved it down hard, refusing to acknowledge it. "Make sure of it," I hissed out.

Ichigo nodded, but I don't think it was used as a response. He turned around then, rotating on his heel and walking toward the stairs. His nod was a goodbye.

He didn't wave or look back, and I acted like that didn't bug me.

He rounded the corner, and when he was out of hearing range I sighed, ignoring the sudden urge to throw my face into a wall. I trudged back into my apartment. The nameless woman I'd fucked last night was gone, but her perfume faintly lingered in the bedroom. I hated it.

I tucked myself into my bed, hugging the sheets close to my face. The room was dark, quiet, and I could hear nothing but my own breathing.

Ichigo's words ran through my head. _He thought he was nothing. He thought he was trash. He and Barragan fuck. He and other clients fuck. He fucks for money. He thinks he's trash. I don't think he's trash. Fucking fuck._

I'd gotten the quiet I'd asked for, but no matter how hard I tried no sleep came to me.

XxXxXxX

Thank you all for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed 

Next chapter we meet some perverted assholes, so that'll be a nice change of pace. Hope to see you there! :)


	3. Chapter 3

So I got distracted with writing Ichigo and Grimmjow's sex scene this morning, which is quite a ways away. Talk about writing out of order.

Enjoy this unfortunately non-sex-filled chapter!

XxXxXxX

A week passed before I saw Ichigo again. My day-to-day life had gotten monotonous. I worked, I ate, I fucked, I slept. That was it, that had suddenly become my whole goddamn life. It was a never-ending cycle with no variations. The only fun part of my day consisted of orgasms. It wasn't that bad, but at the same time it sucked ass.

My life had gotten so boring I actually _craved_ to see Ichigo again.

Tonight I got off work earlier than expected. It was seven o'clock, and I wasn't in the mood to go home. Nnoitra had slipped me a piece of information I couldn't help but be curious about. When Ichigo didn't have clients already scheduled he went to a local bar to pick up people there.

I couldn't help but wonder if Ichigo worked every day. It was a mere Tuesday, did he sell his body on all the weekdays too?

Without even thinking my legs led the way. This was yet another situation I felt like I could've been accurately labeled a stalker.

I walked in the direction of the local bar Nnoitra had talked about, and soon I was upon it. I looked up at the bright letters and lit up picture of a beer bottle. I'd been here before. It was called The Bar and Grill, a simple name created by a simple man (and fucking uncreative in my opinion). Of course, I later discovered it was informally called The Bag as an acronym, so it's possible the name was more thought-out than I realized.

But for the record it was still stupid as fuck.

Nevertheless I stepped inside, and it seemed like an okay place, I guess. Shitty people were being too damn loud, but that wasn't unexpected. Even at this time and day people were overcrowded in the spacious area, drinking and dancing and falling on their faces. The music was unbelievably loud, and my ears almost started ringing from the heavy pounding of the bass.

I got a beer and sat at a table in the corner of the room. I hated the thought that I came here to actually see _Ichigo_ , so I made the pretense of looking for women. Getting laid would be nice tonight, right? I'd like to get laid.

Fuck, I had to specify with a female, a _female._ No prostitutes, no men, no Ichigo. I wanted to get laid by a big-titted _female._

 _Hell yeah,_ I thought with a sip of my beer. That was the life.

I looked around the room. I wasn't going to get drunk, but I had no problem with observing stupidity and drunkenness from afar.

It didn't take me long to spot one. A random kid, some fucking teenager, was drunk and stoned off his ass and playing darts. He missed the board in its entirety, throwing it into the hallway that led to the restrooms. A woman shrieked not a second after, and I snickered in amusement.

I looked around the rest of the bar. I've been to so many bars in my time and, honestly, they were all the same.

Something caught my eye, though, and I turned in that direction. In the opposite corner of the room sat an orange-haired kid, and it took me no time at all to realize it was Ichigo. He wasn't alone, and I blinked in surprise at the company he held. There were three gruff-looking, muscular as fuck men sitting in the booth with him.

My eyebrows furrowed, my stomach grumbling with silent apprehension. What was Ichigo doing with three menacing, middle-aged men in a bar?

Nnoitra said he'd sometimes come here for work, but, but…meeting with these men couldn't be for work…right?

_Right?_

It didn't sit well with me, and I found myself glancing their way more and more with every second that passed. I wasn't snooping, I swear.

I watched Ichigo carefully. His eyes were hard and alert, his lips in a grim line. He had little if anything to say, and it looked like he just listened to what the other men were saying. I couldn't hear them, but whenever they spoke it was directed at him. The man sitting beside him was always smirking grotesquely at him. What the fuck was going on?

One of the men pulled out a large wad of cash and placed it on the table in front of Ichigo.

In that precise moment all of my denial was crushed. It was obliterated into a thousand little pieces until all that was left was festering despair and reality. Life seemed to mock me, and realization hit me with such ferocity I lost my breath.

Ichigo was being bought.

And this wasn't just some old, three-hundred pound client either. Barragan was disgusting and perverted, but he was harmless (I think). But Ichigo's potential clients now? Three muscular, tall men wanted to buy Ichigo. Were they hoping to have him separately, or all together?

My stomach was doing somersaults, and it kept running into my diaphragm and throwing my breathing off. _Fuck, Grimmjow, get yourself together._

But I had to do something. This exact visual was something that had been plaguing me for way too fucking long. If Ichigo was so desperate he'd sell his body to these types of men, there was no telling how much he's endured with other clients, other situations. _Tell me, Ichigo. Is this pain truly worth it?_

The man sitting beside Ichigo in the booth leaned into him, licking and nipping at the bottom of his ear. I could barely see as a thick hand traveled over Ichigo's denim-clad legs. I watched in horror as it slid up his thigh to land firmly on his crotch, squeezing thoroughly.

And that was enough for me. I didn't allow myself to think. I merely stood, marching from one corner of the room to the other.

Ichigo may not mind being treated like trash, so I'd mind for him.

I was halfway toward my destination when Ichigo noticed me. My blue eyes met his brown ones, and the slightest of cracks could be seen in his façade. Even as stoic as he appeared, it was different than usual. Behind his plump lips were grit teeth and a tense jaw. His eyes were swimming with… _something._ I couldn't identify what. It was penetrating and so fucking painful.

Maybe he had known from the start what he was getting into.

That made me livid, absolutely fucking _livid,_ and I quickened my pace.

By now I was in hearing range. The kid's gaze flickered to mine again, almost alarmed, and the man beside him now had a hand down Ichigo's pants.

I heard the man speak, "God, kid, you're such a slut, aren't ya? So fuckin' hot. I love sluts like you." He leaned in for a kiss.

I interrupted the kiss. By the time I was standing in front of their booth I was smoldering with malice and rage and every word that was synonymous to angry ass motherfucker.

And I hated myself, too. I had called the kid a slut before, but now it felt horribly blasphemous. Whatever had urged the kid into this profession, it wasn't his fault. Ichigo deserved more, Ichigo deserved better.

I slammed my fist into the table, and three heads spun to meet my gaze. The hand that had been, been fucking groping Ichigo was removed from his pants, but that didn't make me feel better. I was beyond consolation now.

To be honest, I normally had a fucking great poker face. I could lie with the best of them and barely bat an eye. But right now, at this moment?

My face clearly read that I wanted to slit their necks with my pocketknife.

One of the men grit his teeth at me. "What the hell you want?"

I didn't even acknowledge him as he spoke. He was already dead to me. Why listen to the dead when they can't talk?

My gaze never left Ichigo. Ichigo, who was now staring at me in awe. I reached out and took a firm grip of his arm. I could feel the solid muscle underneath his shirtsleeve, but I could also feel the slight tremors.

These men…they had scared him. They had scared Ichigo.

I addressed the three men. They were dead, more than dead. They just didn't know it yet.

They all glared at me with evil in their eyes, and I gazed back undeterred. "I'm taking this kid now. He's mine." I pulled Ichigo out of the booth, and I was surprised when he didn't fight me.

I glanced at the three, who looked just as dumbfounded, but in an angry, angry way. Somehow, I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time I saw them.

But right now I felt stronger than a god, so I didn't care.

I turned my back on them and wasted no time in leaving The Bag, exiting to be embraced by the chilly night breeze. I looked behind us, and it was evident the men weren't following.

I didn't stop moving, though. I just led the kid along the sidewalk, walking aimlessly. I wasn't even thinking, and I didn't even realize my hand was still wrapped firmly around his biceps.

But _fuck_ , why was I still so angry? I usually had such a good grip on my emotions, but this fucking Ichigo was throwing me all out of whack.

My emotions couldn't make up their goddamned mind.

Had Ichigo actually been _intending_ to accept their offer? Those men looked wrong, violent, he didn't want to get mixed up in a crowd like _that._

It was probably wise that he chose not to speak, because I was on a dangerous ledge. Right now I didn't feel regret, embarrassed, annoyed; I just felt rage. Fierce, soul-crushing rage.

Who did those fuckers think they were?

We walked for a long time. I don't know how much time had passed when I finally calmed down. The haze of anger was peeling away and, layer-by-layer, I was greeted with reality again.

It was cold outside. The wind swept harshly against my face and arms. I looked around and finally noticed my surroundings. We'd walked quite a ways, past my apartment and toward the poorer side of the city. I absently hoped Ichigo didn't live in this direction.

"I don't want to be your charity case."

I looked in the kid's direction. He definitely said something, but his expression was distant, and he was looking away from me. It was almost like he didn't speak at all.

He continued, and he barely glanced in my direction. His voice was soft, and I could tell he was confused. "Why do you keep doing this?"

Ugh, I was just as confused by myself as he was. He was getting pretty mixed signals from me, wasn't he? I save him from the guy fucking him in a bathroom stall, and next I'm an asshole calling him a "manwhore." Then I go back to saving him from those three men at the bar. Fuck, I'm an _idiot._

I licked my lips, almost feeling nervous as I spoke. Almost. "What I said to you before…I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said it to begin with."

Was I angry at myself? At the grocery store I had mentally noted he was beautiful. Maybe that set me off? But surely I wasn't that petty. I wasn't a homo but I wasn't fucking blind either. I can acknowledge someone's attractive without _being attracted._

Ichigo remained silent, allowing my words to sink in. After another moment he asked, "Why did you pull me away from those guys at the bar?"

I didn't even have to contemplate my response. "For the same reason I pulled you away from that fucker fucking you in the bathroom." I peeked at his expression. He wasn't happy with me, that much was clear.

"I'm not some weak little shit. I've played with more than one before, I can take care of myself."

'Played.' His choice of words sent chills down my spine. _'Played,'_ as if it wasn't a big _deal._ As if it didn't kill him every time he finished with a client. 'Played.'

Ichigo was a prostitute, and he sold a little bit of himself every time he performed his job. I couldn't even begin to imagine how damaging that was.

My teeth grit together, and my hand instinctively tightened around his arm. "That's not safe…you know that, right?"

"Like I said, I can take care of myself."

The muscles under my palm were tight, tense, and he blatantly avoided my gaze. I wondered if he really believed the words he was spewing out to me.

"Why are you a prostitute?"

He blinked, eyes wide in surprise and suspicion. His voice was deadpanned. "Do you always ask personal questions to people you don't know?"

I gazed at him with a sideways glance. His bangs were fully covering his eyebrows, another half-inch and they'd be invading his eyesight. His hair looked soft.

I asked, "What if I want to get to know you?"

Ichigo did look at me then, but it was with a mean, calculating gaze. He was trying to read me. Did he think I was about to perform some cruel joke?

I had surprised myself with that, too, though. I didn't even _realize_ I wanted to get to know him until that sentence created itself and blurted out of my mouth.

But this kid was intriguing, and that's why I kept being a stalker. I really did want to learn more about him.

...No homo.

Ichigo had the smallest of scowls. "Then I would be outrageously suspicious of you."

I gave him a lazy grin then, and I subtly leaned toward him. "Then consider yourself suspicious."

He stared at me, and I just kept my goofy grin. "Grimmjow…"

I blinked in surprise. Nnoitra had specifically introduced the kid to me, but in front of Ichigo he only referred to me as "Grimmie."

"How do you know my name?"

Wait…what was I doing? Of all the things I wanted to ask this kid _that_ was what came out of my mouth?

…Wow.

Ichigo's gaze turned dark, even a little hostile. There was an underlining current of… _something,_ but I didn't understand what. Or even why.

I absolutely craved for him to show emotion, but...not like this.

The kid reigned in his anger and merely snorted, eyes glued to the ground beneath him as we walked. "How could I not? You're a fucking celebrity."

He'd barely whispered it, and it sent alarm bells ringing through my brain.

"Do you think that because I'm some poor prostitute I've never watched a television, or read the newspapers? Do I just emanate waves of immense ignorance to you?"

That's the most he had ever spoken to me in one setting, and it was spoken in anger. I hated myself, I truly did. Why did I question something like that? It wasn't odd for Ichigo to know my name. Random people walked up to me and called me by name and I never questioned _them._

I had hurt his pride again. He was a prostitute, but that didn't mean I had to treat him differently. It wasn't fair to him. He deserved better.

Fuck.

"I'm sorry," I said before I'd even been planning to apologize. "I don't even know why I did that. That was…That was shitty of me." I looked to him, and he returned the gaze. "I'm sorry."

Ichigo stared at me, observing my countenance. His eyes roamed to read every inch of my face. This kid was observant, so damn thorough.

He nodded jerkily, looking away. "It's okay."

Silence commenced, and I wanted to do more for him. I was a shit, and all I'd done was prove that over and over again. In reality I _was_ a shit, and normally I didn't give a shit. I didn't care what people thought about me.

But Ichigo…for some reason I wanted him to see me as more.

Before I could think of something to say he was clearing his throat. His eyes were wandering away from me, eyeing the rundown windows. We had entered the poorer side of town. "What time is it?"

I glanced at him before glancing at my gold Rolex. A few minutes ago he had said my name with the intention of saying something. I was positive this wasn't it, and for some reason that made me sad.

"Almost eleven," I responded.

He slowed to a halt, and I reluctantly did the same.

We faced each other, and he finally, _finally_ looked in my direction again. His deep brown eyes gazed up at me and for a moment, just a short, indescribable moment, I found him very beautif…

Ugly as fuck.

I inwardly stabbed myself with a kitchen knife. _Again_ with the beautiful?

But it was fine, I was fine. I could be like an artist. I was a gifted artist merely giving credit where credit was due. So he was a little, tiny bit attractive, so what? It meant nothing.

My body fully faced his now, and I observed his features. My eyes filled with fire as I regarded the finger-shaped bruise around his neck. It was faded and almost gone, but it was so damn ugly, and I wondered if it was still hurting him.

I didn't even realize I was moving until my fingers were already resting on the thin skin of his neck. I reminded myself of the first time I'd met Ichigo, when I'd felt the bruise that had so hideously marred his jaw.

It was almost nostalgic when Ichigo pushed my hand away in the same manner he had the first time.

Ichigo didn't look angry this time, just puzzled. "Stop being weird," he muttered, running a hand through his bright orange hair.

I huffed, displaying a wry grin. "I'm weird? How endearing."

He rolled his eyes but said nothing. Silence came between us again, and soon the kid was pulling at his arm, silently willing me to let go.

Whoa, I hadn't even realized I was still holding him. I did as was requested, and my hand abruptly felt empty and cold. I fought the instinct to reach out again.

I obviously, seriously needed to get laid.

Ichigo shifted on his feet, and I could tell he was preparing for a farewell. "Well, thanks for…that, but don't do it again." He avoided my gaze. "I don't want my clients getting angry."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, uh. Okay."

He's probably had to deal with angry clients before. They wouldn't care if they hurt him, he was just another toy, another way to pass the time, to relieve stress, to get off.

The thought process that led me to was…absolutely infuriating.

Departing from that dangerous train of thought, I realized I didn't want him to leave. I wanted to keep him talking. I wanted him to stay right here, beside me, where it was safe.

I opened my mouth. "What's your favorite color?"

…

What the fuck?

Was I a twelve-year-old girl? Fuck, what the fuck was wrong with me? Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Ichigo looked just as surprised as I was, but he didn't appear critical of the question. "Blue."

I blinked, and the long string of mental self-reproach went to a screeching halt. I stole a peek at his expression.

Blue. His favorite color was…blue?

I was suddenly conscious of my very blue hair, and I beat down whatever surge of happiness was trying to fight its way into my expression. He liked blue, but that didn't mean he liked my hair. Did it? No. They were two completely different things. There was no reason for me to get so excited.

But yet here I was, acting like a twelve-year-old girl that just got offered tickets to her favorite fucking boy band concert.

It was almost like he noticed my train of thought, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

_Fuck Grimmjow, get it together._

I composed myself, merely nodding in response.

"What's yours?"

I've never had a favorite color, but I barely caught myself from blurting out an immediate "orange."

I merely shook my head. "I don't have one."

"Ah. That's boring."

I laughed. The kid had actually made me laugh.

His eyes were bright, and under the streetlight it looked like his eyes were two-toned.

I wanted to get the conversation back on the kid. I didn't want him to leave yet; there was still so much learn about him.

Before I could get the conversation going again Ichigo started chewing his bottom lip. The action distracted me horribly, and my eyes were glued to his mouth.

Ichigo asked, "What time is it?"

I hesitated a moment, then checked my watch. "11:05."

Ichigo swallowed audibly, nodding. "I have to go now."

I mentally deflated. "Okay."

He looked reluctant, but he ultimately continued on. He nodded again, tossed me a wave, then turned on his heel.

I watched him walk away, and the thought of angry clients burned through me. Before I could stop myself I called out to him, "Kid!"

He stopped walking, barely turning his head to the side to watch me.

I swallowed, almost nervous by that hard gaze. "Those men from the bar…stay away from them. D-Don't let them be clients. They…" I swallowed, still clearly remembering the hostility that emanated from them. "They're definitely bad news."

He stood still for a long moment, probably digesting what I said.

He ultimately didn't respond, though, and he continued down the sidewalk, walking in the exact direction I had wished he wouldn't: the poorer side of the city.

I wished he wasn't leaving, but I couldn't help but enjoy watching him leave. My gaze fell to his ass. How could jeans look so good on someone?

Then I realized my train of thought. Fuck, I felt like a broken record, playing the same song over and over again. What the fuck's been wrong with me lately?

_No homo, I am not a fucking homo damn it!_

I quickly set into motion, heading back to my own apartment.

With the weird thoughts I'd been having lately, it was clear I desperately needed a booty call.

XxXxXxXxX

Next chapter finally picks up. Grimmjow goes badass. XD

Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm trying something different this chapter. Hopefully a good change of pace?**

**Warning: contains rape.**

**XxXxXxXxX**

Grimmjow's POV

And get a booty call I did.

After entering my apartment building, snagging my mail, and running up the stairs to the fourth floor I speed-dialed my favorite slut.

Twenty minutes later and I was fucking her into the mattress.

Mindy was a blonde with a big rack and small brain. She didn't work, she just lived off her daddy's money, and more importantly she was fucking crazy in bed. She was into all this weird shit, half of which I hadn't even heard of.

Some of it was great, some of it was…well. Yeah.

"Ah, ah, faster, Grimmjow, _faster!" ___

__I obeyed, plunging faster into her slick hole. I kept the pace unforgiving, working toward my own release. I was an asshole and didn't care as much about hers._ _

__As much as I loved fucking Mindy—gods, she was one of my favorite fuckbuddies—I could tell tonight was different. There wasn't as much…enjoyment? I was definitely going to get off either way, but it felt…different._ _

__I didn't know, it was hard to explain. But I knew I couldn't appreciate her assets in the way I had last time we got together. Her legs were wrapped around me like an octopus, as usual, and tonight it felt oddly confining. I'd always been obsessed with her long, slim, beautiful legs. Why would that change now? Had I just gotten tired of them? Could that happen?_ _

__Her moans were loud and high-pitched. The bed moved in sync with my lunges, and I absently wondered if Barragan could hear us. _It'd serve you right, you bastard.__ _

__Her breasts were lurching back and forth from the momentum of my thrusts. They were big and round, fitting in the palms of my hands perfectly._ _

__But were they… _too_ big and round? Was that possible?_ _

__I wished my cock felt more resistance. Over the years of sluthood Mindy's hole has gotten incredibly loose. I tried to reach farther inside her to get that same excitement, that same rush of hormones, but it didn't come._ _

__Suffice to say, this time, my finish was barely mediocre. She wailed in her orgasm, her fake, hot pink fingernails clawing into my back hard enough to seep blood. Usually that was such a turn-on. Usually…_ _

__What the fuck was _wrong_ with me?_ _

__She was still panting, her eyes squinted and mascara running down her face._ _

__Soon I was coming down from my high. "Mindy," I said, gasping._ _

__Her heavy breathing pushed her breasts up, and I looked up to her face._ _

__She purred. "Yeah, sexy?"_ _

__I cupped a breast in my hand. "Are these real?"_ _

__She giggled, and she grabbed her other, playing with a nipple. "No. Do they look real?"_ _

__I pondered it. "They do." But that was a lie._ _

__How did I never realize it? These were so obviously incredibly _fake._ How did these ever turn me on?_ _

__Mindy put her hand over mine, squishing it more into her fleshy silicone. Her other hand moved down to play with her pussy, and that was all I needed to get me out of the bed. I grabbed my boxers off the floor and wrapped my silk robe around me._ _

__Mindy had a shocked look on her face. I had never been satisfied with just one round before, and I walked into the kitchen to get a beer._ _

__"Sorry Mindy, I still have a lot of work to get done. I'll call you later."_ _

__Somehow, in the recesses of my mind, I knew I wouldn't._ _

__That was as good of a goodbye as any, and finally she was stumbling out of my apartment, slamming the door angrily behind her. I listened as her heels clacked against the wooden floor of the hallway, and I finally breathed a breath of fresh air._ _

__I plopped onto my couch and kicked my feet up on the table._ _

__My thoughts drifted to Ichigo. From the little I knew about him he's been through a lot, too much for his short life. How old was he, eighteen, maybe nineteen? He deserved a better life. The kid seemed sharp and acutely observant. He was not some ditzy guy that couldn't handle his own. It was damn obvious he was smart._ _

__So…why did he choose prostitution?_ _

__It suddenly occurred to me that I was thinking about the kid very shortly after having sex, and that didn't sit well with me. I shuffled through my pocket and placed a cigarette between my teeth. Quickly lighting it, I allowed the nicotine and cancerous substances to sooth my thoughts._ _

__Grabbing the remote I flickered the TV on. I disliked the idea of becoming an obsessed stalker, so I drowned myself in the crappy dialogue of this nameless movie._ _

__Two hours later and I realized I wasted my life on the shittiest, most boring movie in existence. As the credits rolled I just stared at the screen, shocked and in utter disbelief. How could a movie be so stupid? How did this movie get _approved_ for airing?_ _

__I turned off the TV and headed to the bedroom. I pulled out my phone, flipping through my contacts. I had dismissed Mindy, but I'm sure I knew someone _without_ fake breasts and fake nails and fake hair to have a good time with._ _

__After several minutes I gave up. I had a lot of great choices for women, but for some reason I wasn't in the mood. _That's fine. It's not like I need to fuck all the time._ I merely pulled off everything but my boxers and slipped into the bed._ _

__The dream I had that night was the most exotic and peculiar dream I had ever had. It was an abstract mixture of colors. No moment in time looked the same as another. Beneath my eyelids were wild bursts of blue and orange, and the colors swirled vibrantly, weaving and twirling together._ _

__The colors looked so good together, so perfect, and I woke up wondering what Ichigo thought about those colors._ _

__XxXxXxXxX_ _

__ Ichigo's POV _ _

__Freedom. It was a concept thrown about so carelessly. Everyone stood for freedom, everyone fought for freedom. But how do you know when you're truly free? How do you know there aren't strings attached to your arms and legs? How do you know you're not flailing about like a mindless puppet as you bow to the whim of the puppeteer?_ _

__I would never be free. These shackles wore me down, made me hate myself, and every day my will for freedom dwindled. Maybe there was no reason to try and better myself. This was all I was good at, so why even try? Why fight for something I will never obtain?_ _

__I walked along the sidewalk, hands deep in my pockets. I looked at the shattered windows in the adjacent building, my distorted reflection present within the glass. Even moving my legs didn't always come free. Sometimes they were spread against my will, sometimes I was forced._ _

__I would never be free._ _

__My thoughts drifted to Grimmjow. The blue-haired man was weird, wasn't he? It seemed like he was trying to free me. He was trying to break me from the eternal shackles that marred my wrists and ankles. He didn't care that I was a prostitute, he didn't care that I was mere damaged goods. He was a good person, and he was good to me as well._ _

__It was...weird. But a good kind of weird._ _

__His hair looked soft. I liked the blue, too. It was unique. I wondered if it was his natural hair color._ _

__Thinking about his blue hair made me ponder his blue eyes. Was it obvious how obsessed with them I was? I hoped not. They were beautiful, like an endless sea of blue. I wanted to drown in them._ _

__Before I'd met Grimmjow my favorite color had been green._ _

__I continued walking. I blatantly looked in the opposite direction as I passed the neighborhood Karin and Yuzu used to live in. They'd stayed with another family during the two years I had left them._ _

__It brought back bad memories, and I felt a wave of relief when the neighborhood was behind me._ _

__It was physically behind me, but mentally..._ _

__I looked up at the sky with a frown. It was dark outside. I hated the darkness._ _

__I'd left the house tonight telling my sisters not to wait up for me. Yuzu was oblivious to my occupation, but Karin...I had a feeling Karin knew more than I wanted her to._ _

__But I had to do it, this was something I had to do. Our parents were gone, and I was the only one left to take care of them._ _

__I put a hand to my face. Pfft. Some guardian I was, some brother I was. Those two deserved the best but all I could give them was the worst._ _

__They'd be better off with someone wealthy, accomplished. Someone like Grimmjow. Yuzu would love that._ _

__I heard a low snicker behind me, and my train of thought abruptly shattered. I swirled to look behind me, and three men were standing there, lined up in a row. I'd been so lost in thought I hadn't realized I was being followed._ _

__How stupid was I?_ _

__The three weren't familiar, and I couldn't remember them ever being my clients. Who were these guys? What did they want?_ _

__The looks on their faces...it was an expression I'd seen too many times before. Aroused. Lustful. Horny. I was tired of it. I was so goddamn tired of it._ _

__The one in the middle spoke. He was thicker, more muscular, than the other two. He had a balding head and hooked nose. He grinned sadistically, showing me rotten and yellowed teeth. "Hey, gorgeous. Where you goin' this late at night?"_ _

__The black man beside him spoke with a smirk. "Pretty boys like you shouldn' be walkin' round by yourself. Someone might try to..." He licked his lips, "Take you."_ _

__I stared at him in disgust. 'Pretty.' I hated being called pretty. There was nothing pretty about me._ _

__I eyed them each carefully. If it was only these three then I could take them. The guy in the middle was buff, but I knew I was strong. I'd get a bruise or two, but I could handle these guys. This would be fine._ _

__"...So we finally meet again, Ichigo."_ _

__The voice came from behind me. It was a familiar voice, a voice I'd heard recently._ _

__I turned around. Three men stood there, and I recognized them as the three from The Bag that Grimmjow had pulled me away from. I swallowed, the first tingle of fear coursing through me. Six men now. Six men I would have to defeat._ _

__This was too well-timed to be coincidental. These men had planned this. They'd been waiting for me._ _

__Fuck._ _

__The leader of the three, Gabe, took a step toward me, his gaze never leaving my body. "Has anyone ever told you how...sexy you look when you're scared?"_ _

__Bile crept up my throat and chills raced down my spine. _'Sexy.'_ I hated that word a thousand times more than 'pretty.' Flashes of blood and a dead man crossed before my eyes, and I blinked hastily. It was over, it was done, it shouldn't affect me anymore. It damn well shouldn't affect me anymore._ _

___"Spread your legs a little more, sexy. Yeah, that's it. Fuck, you're so tight."_ _ _

__A twig snapped behind me, and I whirled to see the other three men slowly advancing._ _

__"Get back," I warned, but my voice didn't hold the authority I wanted it to._ _

__They weren't deterred. In fact, I don't think they even heard me._ _

__Gabe spoke louder, loud enough for the three men across from him to hear. "Let's rough him up then take him back into the alley." He smirked, looking me up and down. "We don't want anyone... _interrupting,_ now do we?"_ _

__They had me surrounded. From the very start I wasn't meant to win._ _

__They closed in. The first punch was thrown, and the guy nearest to me was sent hurdling to the ground. I wasn't going to win, but I wasn't going to give up, either._ _

__Freedom...it was such a thoughtlessly thrown around term, wasn't it? I held no freedom. I was nothing but a puppet. A mindless puppet people got to toy with when they got bored. I meant nothing to no one. I was no one._ _

__So why did I keep trying to cut these strings?_ _

__Another punch flew, and I stumbled but didn't fall. I surged forward._ _

__Freedom was a great concept, but from my perspective it was nothing but a pile of shit. It was a word that held no meaning._ _

__I stumbled again. I tried my hardest, I truly did. I gave it my _all.__ _

__Time passed and I hit the ground._ _

__Not surprisingly, my all wasn't good enough._ _

__\------_ _

__ Grimmjow's POV _ _

__A few days had past since I last saw Ichigo at The Bag. Work was as monotonous as anticipated, and at eight o'clock I was packing up my materials. Nnoitra was particularly dreadful today, and I think he actually popped a boner while he was talking to me about Ichigo._ _

__The more I met Ichigo and got to know him, the more I despised Nnoitra for his nauseating accounts. He talked about the kid like he _owned_ him. In the beginning I tuned him out; I hadn't cared then._ _

__But now? I listened to every word. Every horrible, disgusting word._ _

__I hated listening to it, but it gave me a little more understanding of what Ichigo dealt with on a regular basis. If Nnoitra did things like this, then were there others? Were there others like Nnoitra, like Barragan? Were < _all_ of his clients like this?_ _

__I left the building and was now walking along the sidewalk. I looked up to note how dark the sky had gotten. I liked the darkness. Sometimes it was so dark it almost felt like you could hide yourself in its thick concealment. It was like a blanket of black, and it was comforting._ _

__Bright, shining lights caught my eye, and I turned my gaze to admire all the shopping windows I walked past. The advertisements were lit up with fancy clothing and fascinating accessories. There was so much expensive stuff in this city. I could essentially afford all of it. But Ichigo…_ _

__Ichigo was shackled. Ichigo wasn't free to the luxury of wealth._ _

__After a moment I shook off the thoughts. My aversion for the kid's lifestyle wouldn't help anyone, and all it did was put me in a bad mood._ _

__Hands deep in my pockets I traveled mindlessly. I was intentionally walking in the opposite direction of my apartment, but I wasn't sure why. I just…was._ _

__I was nearing the poorer side of the city now, and you could tell. As opposed to the bright advertisements of the previous windows, these windows were broken and rundown. The trees were looming and dead, lacking the vibrancy of pretty maples and oaks._ _

__I looked up at the sky. I loved the nighttime, but the sky here was ominous and black with dread. I hated that Ichigo probably lived in this area._ _

__A hushed noise sounded, and I slowed down my pace. There was a dark alleyway to my right, and I paused. Did I…hear something?_ _

__I stopped in my tracks entirely, and I squinted my eyes in concentration as I tried to distinguish the noises. I definitely heard _something_ coming from the alleyway, but it was so muffled. What the hell was I hearing?_ _

__I decided to investigate. I cautiously entered the alleyway. It was so dark and completely away from streetlights, and my eyes worked to focus themselves._ _

__As I went deeper the noise inevitably got louder. It was still horribly muffled, and I still couldn't figure out what the hell it was._ _

__My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, though, and I saw several figures cast throughout the area. I was starting to understand the true danger of the situation when I noticed three of the figures were unconscious, lying face down on the dirty ground._ _

__Adrenaline drenched my veins, and I quickly looked up to scrutinize the rest of the scene._ _

__My eyes simmered, and fury surged through me. Three men were unconscious, but three men were still distinctly alert. They were all immensely muscular, and those three men were performing an act so deplorable, so fucking degrading, that my head spun from the shock, and rage exploded through every pore of my being._ _

__I first learned about rape when I was eleven years old. I had seen it on the news one day, and my mother sat me down and explained to me what it meant. She'd said, "Rape is when one person forces their sexual interest on another. It's not necessarily between a man and a woman, and it always, _always,_ causes horrible consequences for the victim." Then she listed out all the precautions I should execute to protect against rape. It was honestly ridiculous, but now I can look back and appreciate her concern._ _

__I had learned about rape, knew without a doubt it existed, but to actually witness it…_ _

__I read the scene for a second longer, and it was then I discovered who the victim was._ _

__It was in that moment I wished for death. Death for these men, death for myself, death for this entire world. I wanted to see the blood on my hands, to feel the red, viscous liquid slide down my fingers and along my palms. I wanted to hear these three men scream for a god that I now knew without a doubt didn't exist._ _

__Because Ichigo was being raped. Ichigo… _Ichigo_ was being raped._ _

__He was completely naked and positioned on his knees. His torso was leaned forward, and both of his arms were secured by two of the muscular men. But the third man…oh god…the third man was the one touching him, _lunging_ into him. His hands were holding onto Ichigo's hips like a lifeline, and he was thrusting in and out at a tremendously fast pace._ _

__Ichigo had two folds of cloth on his face, one over his eyes and one over his mouth. Both of the pieces were secured tightly at the back of his head, and a piece of rope was wrapped around Ichigo's wrists._ _

__What I had heard earlier was Ichigo's muffled grunts and screams for help. Now, though, he had stopped fighting. He was quiet and complacent. He was just waiting for the nightmare to end…_ _

__The man thrusting into Ichigo never slowed his pace. The words I'd been hearing coming out of his mouth finally registered to me._ _

__"Fuck yeah, you're such a fucking slut, ya know that? Your hole is begging for more, isn't it? Such a fucking slut."_ _

__My brain shut down, and my legs moved on their own accord. I didn't even realize I had moved, and suddenly I was sending my first punch. The man that I was going to beat to death stumbled out of Ichigo. His slew of utter profanities stopped as he toppled to the ground. He was big, he was muscular, but so was I._ _

__And right now I had the strength of a thousand bulldozers._ _

__Up close I realized these three men were the ones Ichigo had been talking to at The Bag. All three of their pants and underwear had been relinquished. They…They had been taking _turns_ with Ichigo._ _

__I couldn't see anything anymore. I was blinded by my own rage. All I could see was red._ _

__I was going to be their worst nightmare._ _

__I wasn't even fully conscious as I pummeled them over and over and over, relishing in their wails and screams of agony. I'd make them cry and beg for forgiveness, and when they did I wouldn't give it to them. I'd just slit their throats._ _

__Too soon it was over. They were bruised, beaten, and so goddamned fucked up. But I still wasn't satisfied. They still weren't damaged enough. I still hadn't alleviated all this _rage!__ _

__As a last minute decision I pulled out my pocketknife. Eyes glimmered with fear, and I focused on the one that had been hurting Ichigo. I recognized him from The Bag. He'd been the one sitting beside Ichigo with his hand down his pants as he called him a slut._ _

__He wasn't so tough now, was he?_ _

__The man was scrambling on his hands and feet, trying to get away from me. Trying to get away despite his extensive injuries._ _

__Sorry, friend. There is absolutely no escaping me._ _

__I moved to stand in front of the sordid, vile, repulsive animal, and I bent down to see him at eye level. The knife in my hand was screaming at me to do something. I still hadn't seen enough blood. I still hadn't performed enough damage to appease my wrath._ _

__But then…then I thought of Ichigo. Ichigo, who was still blindfolded and tied up and lying on the cold, hard ground._ _

__I was so conflicted. I wanted to cut off their dicks and feed it to them. I wanted to pull their intestines out and tie them up into little bows. I wanted to take their heart in my hand and feel the moment it stopped beating._ _

__I lifted an arm, and I was surprised to see how much it was shaking._ _

__I pointed into the darkness of the alley. I was giving them their one chance, their one chance to leave, and if they didn't take it I would kill them. I would kill them like the monsters they were._ _

__And I would make it slow._ _

__They understood my meaning immediately. They wasted no time as they scrambled away, tripping over their own feet and limping deeper into the alleyway. They left their three unconscious friends for dead, but I didn't give a shit, and they probably didn't either._ _

__When they turned the corner all of my fight left me. I placed my pocketknife back in my pocket, and I suddenly felt empty and cold and so fucking fucked up._ _

__Anger still seeped through my pores, but it was contained. I could breathe again; I could think again._ _

__I moved to Ichigo, who was on his knees, hands bound and the pieces of cloth still over his eyes and mouth. He hadn't moved an inch. His body was trembling, but I could tell that even in this state he was trying to hide them. He knew he'd been saved, but…did he think I was going to do the same thing they did to him? Was he still so afraid?_ _

__As slowly as I could I knelt down in front of him. Carefully, so fucking carefully, I placed my hand to the cloth over his eyes. He flinched but didn't move, and I gently pulled it off over his head._ _

__I watched as he worked to focus his vision, to be able to see me clearly._ _

__Oh fuck…his eyes._ _

__His eyes alone held the most emotion I had ever seen in my life. It was so powerful, so painful, and what I saw in his eyes almost made me want to throw up._ _

__This wasn't the way I wanted it to be. This wasn't the way I wanted it to be at all. I'd rather never see an emotion on his face ever again than to see even a sliver of what I saw now._ _

__Nobody deserved this life…nobody…nobody…_ _

__With trembling hands and glazed eyes I removed the cloth over his mouth. His lips were dry and chapped, and he made no attempt to speak._ _

__I untied the rope over his wrists. It had been placed on tight, and his skin was raw and red. I hoped it didn't end up bruising._ _

__"I-Ichigo…"_ _

__My voice sounded so wrong, so distorted, so fucking shaky. I needed to pull myself together. I needed to be strong for Ichigo._ _

__He stared into my soul with those scary, sinful, sad eyes, and I let him. I let every painful emotion in those brown orbs warp me into despair._ _

__I felt despair, but it also encouraged me to be strong. Ichigo was hurting, Ichigo was breaking, and it was my job to put him back together._ _

__I spoke to him softly, like I was talking to a frightened, injured animal. "I'm going to dress you now, okay?" I didn't grasp why, but it felt important to voice my actions to the boy. I didn't want to take him by surprise._ _

__He nodded shakily, and I gently and quickly pulled on his clothes. He winced, and it just made me hate this world even more. To think something this horrible had happened to him…_ _

__He was shaking and sweaty by the time he was clothed, and I knew he didn't have the strength to do anything more._ _

__I gazed deeply into Ichigo's eyes, talking to him softly and carefully. "Ichigo…I'd like to carry you now. Can I carry you?"_ _

__Ichigo shook his head, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "N-No. I…I can w-walk." His voice was hoarse and raspy, as if he'd been screaming for hours._ _

__I'd been kneeling in front of him, but suddenly I had to sit down. I thought I was going to throw up, and I turned away from him just in case. Tears prickled at the corner of my eyes._ _

__Please…please tell me it wasn't for hours…_ _

__The nauseating feeling eventually passed, and I turned back to see Ichigo trying to stand. I rushed to him, touching his shoulder and urging him back down._ _

__He flinched. "I…I can d-do it…"_ _

__I put a finger to his chin, tipping it up so he could look into my eyes. I shook my head. "No…you can't." Ichigo's eyes widened, and I could tell he was angry. He thought I was treating him like a cripple, like he was weak._ _

__I leaned forward and barely kissed my lips to his forehead. If he'd had his eyes closed he probably wouldn't have even known I'd done it._ _

__I looked into his eyes again. "But I will carry you until you can." To the ends of the earth if I have to._ _

__He swallowed, and with that he also swallowed his pride. He nodded, granting me permission, and I gently took him into my arms. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and I knew he was trying to hide his pain._ _

__Too much goddamn pride._ _

__I carried him bridal-style out of the alleyway and toward my apartment. We moved in silence, and he eventually rested his head on my shoulder._ _

__Passersby were looking at us funny, and I genuinely hated them for it. Ichigo had ignored his pride and allowed me, _trusted_ me enough to carry him to safety. Why couldn't anyone appreciate it like I did?_ _

__I'd walked a ways before Ichigo broke the silence. His voice was still hoarse, and it came out as a tiny whisper._ _

__He spoke into my neck, and his breath on my skin made me shiver. "Why…Why is it always you…that sees me at my worst?"_ _

__I closed my eyes to conceal my sorrow. I didn't know the answer to that._ _

__I wanted to hold him tighter, squeeze him more into my chest, but I was scared to. I didn't want to hurt him._ _

__"I don't know," I finally, softly responded. "But I'm glad I did."_ _

__I felt his head resituate on my shoulder, and he looked up at me. He said nothing._ _

__I made it to my building, going in through the back entrance to avoid any unnecessary people._ _

__When I reached the stairs Ichigo tapped me on the shoulder. "I, I can walk now."_ _

__I observed him dubiously, wryly. "What? Do you think I can't carry you up the stairs?"_ _

__"I…I just think it's unnecessary trouble."_ _

__That sentence made me surge up the stairs, ignoring Ichigo's pounding on my chest. No trouble I endured was unnecessary when I did it for him. How could he not see that?_ _

__I carried him to the fourth floor. I was a little out of breath but it didn't affect me at all. I had a mission, and I was going to complete it._ _

__I reached the door to my apartment, contemplating how to proceed. I still didn't want to put Ichigo down, but I had to get this open somehow._ _

__"Ichigo," I said, and he looked up at me. "Can you get my keys from my back pocket?"_ _

__"Absolutely not." His voice was still raspy, and physical pain leaked through his words. I'd need to get him some painkillers._ _

__I huffed. _"Please?"__ _

__The slightest glimmer of amusement shone in his eyes. Grief was still the most prominent, but I saw his effort. "Maybe you should just put me down and do it yourself."_ _

__I rolled my eyes, but I was glad he still had enough of himself to show some humor. "But I don't want to put you down."_ _

__"Then we both have a problem."_ _

__I sighed, thinking for several long seconds. I just stood there, acting like I was pondering but, for some reason, I was just hoping Ichigo would change his mind._ _

__Two minutes passed and he remained resolute in his position. I sighed again, this time accepting defeat. I set him down, as gingerly as possible. He held onto my shoulder as he steadied himself. He had a small grimace on his features, and I already wished I hadn't put him down._ _

__I watched him from the corner of my eye as I unlocked the door. He was standing on shaky legs but was able to remain upright._ _

__I opened the door quickly, allowing Ichigo first entrance. He walked into my apartment with a limp, and I was desperate to pick him back up. He was still _hurting,_ goddamn it. He shouldn't be _walking.__ _

__He looked tired, nervous, and his body quivered slightly. He trusted me enough to carry him back to my place but, now that he was here, he was uneasy._ _

__I vowed to change that._ _

__Ichigo drank in his surroundings, and I closed the door behind me. From my peripheral I saw his head spin in my direction, and I did my best to ignore his gaze._ _

__I went through one of my cabinets, pushing around various items until I got what I wanted. I took the container then grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge. I faced Ichigo and handed him the Tylenol and water._ _

__"Here."_ _

__His eyes were wide with surprise, and after a moment he took them with shaky hands._ _

__Ichigo didn't have broken skin, but he had numerous bruises. Fucking _numerous_ bruises. I assumed Ichigo had successfully beaten up those three unconscious men before he got overpowered._ _

__And to take out three when you were simultaneously up against six? That was a fucking feat._ _

__"T-Thanks." He swallowed three of the pills then washed them down with water. He gave me back the Tylenol container and set the water bottle on the counter._ _

__He remained where he stood, and something about his stance compelled me to do the same. He looked nervous, his gaze shifting every few seconds, and he never made eye contact with me._ _

__He cleared his throat lightly, and his voice was low and filled with sadness. "I…I did as you said."_ _

__I blinked, watching him intently. I thought through our most recent conversations. I never told him to do anything…did I?_ _

__I waited. He swallowed, licking his lips nervously. "W-When they took me, they…they weren't my c-clients. I wasn't going to do business with them. I…" His eyes shimmered with a thin film of water. "I had told them no."_ _

__My body trembled, and my vision grew hazy. My fists shook with rage for what was done to him. Why didn't no mean _no?_ Why did rapists exist? Why was sex so important that you had to take it by _force?__ _

__I had the images of those three men burned into my memory, and my fists shook. If I ever saw them again…_ _

__I contained the fury that swelled within me, but in that moment of pure, unadulterated wrath, I made a promise to myself. I didn't know Ichigo very well, and I wasn't with him every minute of his life, but I would make sure, I would make _sure,_ this never, ever happened to him again. Ever._ _

__I looked at him. The tears in his eyes never fell, but he looked lost, desolate. I was desperate with the urge to reach out to him, to touch him, to comfort him. But Ichigo had been hurt, Ichigo had been…raped._ _

__My touch was the last thing he needed._ _

__So I stayed where I was and settled for words. "What they did to you wasn't your fault. Being h-hurt like that…it doesn't make you weaker, it doesn't make you less human. You endured something nobody should ever have to endure…" I stared at him, pride suddenly swelling within me. "And fuck, you took down three of those bastards. I mean Jesus, you must be a fucking ninja." I smiled lightly at him, loving how absorbed he was in everything I was saying. "You were hurt, yeah, but you survived. You survived because you're strong, the fucking strongest person I know."_ _

__I took a step forward then, and I unconsciously reached out to touch him._ _

__My fingertips landed on his cheek, and he didn't smack it away like I'd been expecting him to. He didn't flinch, he didn't turn away. He just gazed up at me in awe, amazed and stricken. His skin was smooth and warm to my touch, and I caressed it softly. "If you can survive something as cruel as that…you can survive anything, don't you think?"_ _

__The words I spoke had fallen flat compared to how I'd wanted to say them in my head. But Ichigo…Ichigo seemed truly comforted. His demeanor was a little brighter, a little less pained. He didn't push my hand away, and I think that was a true testament to his emotions._ _

__He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. The pad of my thumb traced over his skin, and I wanted to feel more of it. Was his other cheek this smooth? What about his nose, his neck, his hands? I wanted…I wanted to feel everything._ _

__His eyes opened again, and my chance was gone. "Thanks," he said with a light smile. It was such a small word, but I could tell how much he meant it. And that just made me smile back._ _

__Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away from his cheek. I didn't want to linger and give off any bad vibes._ _

__He walked away, limping through the kitchen and slowly maneuvering into the living room._ _

__He entered the living room and carefully sat down on the couch, very hesitant as he placed his bottom on the cushion. God...I hated seeing him like this._ _

__I followed him into the living room. "Kid, does this…Does this happen often?" My voice was drenched in grief, no matter how much I had tried to hide it._ _

He turned to scrutinize me, watching me with a cryptic expression on his features. I couldn't quite identify what emotion he was showing, but he was showing…had happened before. Goddamn it fucking _fuck_. Why were humans so evil? I wanted to rip their limbs off, clog their arteries with motor oil, scratch away at their flesh until they had nothing left— 

A hesitant hand touched my own, and my train of thought came to a startling halt. My head spun to look at Ichigo. I had been lost in my head, and he brought me back. His eyes were swimming with that mysterious _something_ again, and I officially determined that the something that I saw…it was a good thing. 

He tugged on my hand slightly, and I sat down and joined him on the couch. He kicked off his shoes then curled his legs up to his chest. I couldn't help but stare. His body was moving in interesting ways. He seemed so damn…flexible. 

"I'm sleepy," he said softly. 

I immediately pointed to my bedroom. "You can have the bed, Ichigo. I'm not tired anyway." 

After a moment of contemplation he shook his head. "No, this is fine here." 

Ichigo then leaned into my body, and I almost gasped at the immediate warmth that surged through me. He was like a furnace that contained a blazing fire. He felt so warm, so pleasant, and I wanted to fall asleep to his touch. 

He snuggled into me, and I thought I'd fucking die of happiness. I had had so much sex in my life, but this was the most intimate feeling I had ever experienced. I wanted to cherish this kid, to wrap my arms and legs around him and never let go. I wanted to keep him to myself for the rest of time. 

I placed one arm around him, tucking him in a little closer. He rested his head on my chest, and I ran a hand through his hair. I finally got to feel the orange strands I'd been wanting to for so long. 

And goddamn. His hair was even softer than I'd imagined. 

He closed his eyes, and I continued my silent petting. Fifteen minutes later and his breathing evened out. His sleeping face looked so much younger, so much more innocent. How I wished to see him like this while he was awake… 

With Ichigo in my arms I felt so soothed. Soon I could feel the curtains of consciousness draw to a close. I closed my eyes and embraced it. 

I slept sitting up on the couch, but it was the best sleep I'd had in years. 

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Chapter 4 complete! Hope Ichigo's POV was fun. It had been quite an impromptu decision, but I enjoyed writing it.**

**Next chapter we learn more about Ichigo's past. Darkness shall ensue.**

_**Hope to see you all there! :)** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Hope you enjoy! Commence Chapter 5!**

**XxXxXxXxX**

I woke up cold, and even barely awake I could recognize this was nothing like how I'd fallen asleep. I fell asleep feeling warm, cozy, and so fucking comfortable.

What the fuck changed?

I opened my eyes. Sunlight was shining cheerily through the window, the rays bright and illuminating through the apartment. I absently wondered why I couldn't feel as jolly as the fucking sun.

I turned to see Ichigo. He wasn't where he belonged. He wasn't on the couch. He wasn't in my arms sleeping soundly. Instead he was leaning against the opposite wall and pulling his shoes on, his finger hooking it over his heel.

I continued watching him. "Hey," I said, my voice still annoyingly slurred with sleep.

He jumped slightly, his eyes jumping up to meet mine.

"H-Hey." Did he look…nervous? My vision was still hazy, I couldn't tell.

I was lying down on the couch—that was definitely not how I'd fallen asleep—and I stood, cracking my back to get rid of the kinks.

"Sleep well?" I asked, grasping at straws, wishing he'd say something more.

He nodded his head feverishly, eyes looking down and cheeks lightly tinted.

"Good," I muttered, disappointed he didn't expand. I mean fuck, I slept amazingly. That was the best sleep I'd had in years.

I wanted to brush my teeth, but I was scared he'd run off if I let him out of my sight. I'd go without for now.

Instead I walked into the kitchen portion of the space. I couldn't get him to speak idle chitchat, so I'd have to think of something else.

"Want some breakfast, kid? I make stellar pancakes."

I genuinely hoped he said yes.

Ichigo didn't even hesitate, "No."

I stopped sifting through my cabinets, and I turned to look at him. He said it with such conviction. Fuck. Was I really that horrible to him? Was he really that resolved to leave me as soon as possible?

Ichigo was looking down at the wooden floor. His shoes were on, and he had a surreal expression. His entire demeanor was tense and troubled.

Several moments passed. I haven't said anything because I'd hoped Ichigo would justify his blatant refusal, but he didn't. He suddenly started heading toward my door, taking long strides and fast steps.

I blocked his path to the door. My eyes stared at his downcast ones. "Why?" I asked, with more intensity than I intended.

Several more moments passed. His orange hair now hung over his face, and his expression was effectively concealed.

"I…I'm just," He paused, fidgeting with his shirtsleeve. He seemed annoyed with himself, like he couldn't find the right word to describe what he wanted to say. "E-Embarrassed, I guess."

My eyebrows drove downward on my forehead. "Wait, embarrassed? Why?" What'd I do? Did I take something too far? Was it inappropriate that we slept together last night?

But…but it was completely _innocent._ We didn't _do_ anything.

He chewed on his bottom lip, and the movement immediately caught my attention. I stared blankly until he finally started talking again.

"About l-last night." He shook his head, cheeks still tinted and eyes still dark. "Sorry, I-I'm just being dumb about it."

I was still confused. So the couch thing was awkward for him. But _why?_ So we slept on the couch together, why was that a big deal? We didn't do an—

Memories flooded back. I stared in awe. Oh my god…of course. _Fuck._ Ichigo was…Ichigo was…

Fuck fuck _fuck._

How did I forget? Ichigo had dark circles under his eyes. Bruises were scattered over his body, and his wrists were a reddish-blue. What was I, a fucking idiot? How did I _forget?_

I fought to blink back tears. "Ichigo," I murmured, and something about the way I said it made him look up.

God…I couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were still haunted, still so goddamn hurt. How did I forget? How did I not realize he was hurting?

Why hadn't I gotten to him sooner? Why hadn't I _saved_ him?

God _damn_ it!

A hand touched my own, and I saw that Ichigo had barely reached out to nudge me. "It wasn't your fault."

I choked on a sob. How was it anyone's fault _but_ mine? I mean _fuck._ At The Bag I had pulled Ichigo away from them. What they did last night was _revenge. Fuck!_

"Grimmjow, stop."

My teeth were grit, and there was a sharp crunching noise of bone on bone. I vaguely heard a loud, guttural growl emit from my lips, and fingernails were clawing at my face.

I didn't realize they were my own until Ichigo was yanking at my limb, using his entire body to pull it away. "What the hell are you doing? _Stop."_

What…What was I doing? I stared at my hand like it was a foreign object. Fresh blood settled beneath my fingernails. It wasn't much at all, but it was there.

When the fuck had I become a masochist?

And that immediately led me down a different train of thought. Just now I had hurt myself. My emotions got to be too much, they simmered and overflowed from their big black cauldron.

But what about Ichigo? Has…Has Ichigo ever hurt himself? Did the pain ever get so strong that he felt hopeless? Hopeless and alone and all that could fix him was a quick cut to the wrist?

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god please fucking no.

"Where's your first-aid kit?"

I heard him ask it but it didn't register. Ichigo had been hurt. Ichigo had been raped. Ichigo had been gangraped. Those bastards had taken _turns_ with him…

_"Grimmjow."_

I blinked abruptly, and a sharp pinch to my arm forced me back to reality. I looked back to Ichigo. "What? No. No, I don't have a first-aid kit."

Ichigo looked at me like I was an idiot, and I agreed with his sentiment. Not because I didn't have a first-aid kit, but because I'd fucking let Ichigo get, get…

_Fuck._

"I'm so sorry."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "There's no need to apologize to me. I'm not the one with fingernail scratches on his cheeks."

"No." My eyes stared into his with such intensity that Ichigo stared right back. If he had been intending to say anything else it died in his mouth.

I took a step forward, never losing eye contact with him. Emotion poured through every word as I spoke. "Ichigo. I am _sorry."_ And I meant that with every fiber of my being.

Ichigo's gaze drowned inside of mine. He was searching me so thoroughly that it almost felt like he was inside of me. That his gaze was actually swimming inside my soul.

After several moments he swallowed, and his Adam's apple moved with it. "I-It…" He nodded shakily. "It's o-okay."

I nodded back. I had to fight every inch of me to stop myself from reaching out and crushing him to my chest.

He was the first to look away. Our deep gaze was broken, and he turned to look at my cheeks.

He passed by me and maneuvered into the kitchen. I watched him curiously, but I was also doing my best to suppress my barely-restrained rage. He was limping. It was obvious he was trying to hide it, but there was no way I'd miss the hobble and twinge of pain in his expression. I could tell he was still _hurt._

_Fuck._

Ichigo grabbed a clean kitchen towel and put it under the faucet. After letting it soak he turned the water off and came back to me, and he placed the towel on my cheek.

"Try to stop hurting yourself, please."

He was so sincere with his request. Just as I hated to see him in pain, did he dislike it with me as well?

I crushed whatever hope had tried to surge it's way up. "I will. S-Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sorry."

He eyed my like I was a dumbass but said nothing, and he had the slightest twinge of humor in his gaze. That alone made me happy.

But…my happiness was short-lived as a previous train of thought plagued me.

"Ichigo…" I paused, thinking of how I wanted to word it. Ichigo was dabbing my cheek with the towel, but his eyes flickered to mine in question. "Do you…Have you ever…"

_Fuck,_ how do you ask something like this? Was this too personal to ask? But fuck, I wanted to know. I _needed_ to know.

I was grateful the kid waited until the end. He continued watching me curiously.

"Have you ever hurt yourself?" I gulped audibly, and the mental images tormenting me were insufferable. "Like…i-intentionally?"

The towel on my cheek halted in movement. Ichigo was frozen in place, and his gaze never left mine.

After a long moment he recovered. He continued washing the wound. "No…" He licked his lips, and I could feel the hand on my cheek trembling slightly. "I've thought a-about it before, but…" His eyes were glazed and he shook his head. "My sisters…I couldn't do that to them." He gave a sad smile. "Ya know? They're all I have left."

I stared in awe at his intense devotion. Gods. The love he must have for his sisters…amazing.

I gulped nervously. "So uh, you don't…you don't have any parents to look after you?"

Ichigo gazed at me, and his sadness no longer came with a smile. "No. My mom died when I was a kid and my dadwas murdered."

I stared at the kid before me. M- _Murdered?_ What the absolute fuck? Why would the father of an ordinary kid be _murdered?_

But...hm. I absently wondered how many people Ichigo has confided in with that kind of information.

"I'm sorry, kid. I'm really sorry."

He shrugged. "It was a long time ago." A lingering pain lurked in his eyes, though.

Ichigo paused, then, "What time is it?"

I checked my Rolex. I was curious now, too. "Almost ten."

He nodded. "I should get going."

I wanted to argue. To say he was still injured and that I needed to take care of him, that it was too dangerous to go outside in his condition, that someone may want to take advantage of him if he's hurt and vulnerable like that.

But I didn't say any of those things. I was beginning to understand the kid—the man— that was Ichigo. He had his pride, and he would despise me if I questioned his ability to walk home alone.

But…but there was still no guarantee he was safe, so I was conflicted. Ichigo had been hurt. Could it happen again? What if I wasn't there to save him? What if he was _raped_ again?

A thought came to mind, and I held up a finger to Ichigo. "Hold on." I ran into my office, scribbled onto a torn piece of paper, then made it back to Ichigo. I gave him the paper. "This is my number. Call me if you ever need anything. _Anything."_ I could've given him my business card, but that felt too…formal. It didn't feel right.

He stared at the note in his hand like it was a lost treasure. A few moments past, and he suddenly looked up at me with a gaze of genuine gratitude. "Thank you."

I fought off the urge to smile like a lovestruck teen. "You're welcome."

He handed the bloodied towel back to me. He poked my cheek with a finger before hitting me with a stern, fierce gaze. "Don't let this happen again." His voice held no room for argument, and his eyes pierced into my own.

I nodded. "I won't."

He nodded back, pleased. He parted with a small wave, and too soon he was walking away. My right hand reached out to pull him back in.

Thank gods it didn't connect, though, and Ichigo continued unknowingly on his way. I watched him until he was out of sight, stepping down the stairs and walking farther away from me.

I swallowed, a lump in my throat. Two seconds gone and I already missed him.

Shaking my head of the thoughts I went back into my apartment. I pulled my phone from my pocket and noticed I had seven texts and two missed calls.

Highly surprised and slightly alarmed I opened up the texts. I read them and it was slowly beginning to dawn on me.

It was a weekday. It was fucking ten. I was late to work.

I groaned, putting a hand to my forehead. Well whoops.

I texted back, stating I was too sick to make it today. I apologized profusely—as if. I wasn't sorry in the slightest—and explained how hopeful I was about returning to work tomorrow.

I also described today's intended schedule just in case someone wanted to tackle that for me. I bet Hinamori would. That'd be nice.

Text sent I plopped onto my couch, completely pooped.

My mind was blank for a full half-hour before I decided to actually be productive with my thoughts.

And, of course, my thoughts veered to Ichigo.

When I was around Ichigo it was like I became a different person. I was like a gay, mushy, wimpy guy that obsessed over love and happiness and all that fucking lame-ass shit nobody cared about. What was wrong with me? I liked _women._

I've loved tits for the full twenty-four years of my life. Why would that change now?

I pondered. I absently felt at the scratches still bloody on my cheek. I couldn't deny that _something_ about me had changed. I was thinking about him a lot. Fuck, I was thinking about him right now. I wanted to protect him, hold him close. I hated the way Nnoitra talked about him like an object, but it was more than that. I realized I _didn't_ want to _share._

I shook my head. No, no, no. I was looking into this too much. I was overthinking it. I've been straight all my life; there's no way it'd just randomly _change_ because of one person. It couldn't, it wasn't possible. Feelings didn't work that way. I was still straight. _I was still straight._

I absolutely, without a doubt, was not attracted to Ichigo.

XxXxXxX

Every day for the past eight days I've waited for Ichigo to call. My phone hadn't been set to silent even once, and I always kept it charged and on my person. What if he got ganged up on and hurt again? What if I wasn't there? What if he had the chance to _call_ me so that I could save him?

Ugh. If he called just _once_ I could know his number. Not that I'd spam him with texts or calls or something, but…it'd give me a sense of security. Knowing I could swiftly get in touch with him was something I yearned for strongly.

It was five o'clock and I wanted to go home. Nnoitra was insufferable as usual, and if he walked into my office one more goddamned time tonight I knew without a doubt I would make him pay for it.

Nnoitra shared that he had first bought Ichigo when the kid was fourteen. _Fourteen?_ Ichigo was selling himself that soon? Just thinking about it made me want to vomit and kill someone all at the same time. It was horrible. Absolutely horrible. I hated everything about this.

I worked more and at six I ate dinner in my office. My nerves were so frazzled; I didn't trust myself to interact with other humans right now.

At eight I packed up my materials, finally done for the day. Most of the employees were already gone, and thank fuck for that. Less people to see.

I walked to the elevators. Time to get out of this hellhole.

Twenty minutes later and I was stepping into my apartment. I set my shit down and checked my phone. Fully charged and still no messages.

_Damn it, Ichigo. You better be okay._

I ate leftover Chinese because I was a fatass and at eleven that night I was peeling back the covers. I pulled off my clothes and decided to free-ball it as I fell onto my mattress.

I glanced at my phone on the bedside table. Still silent and undisturbed. I rested my head on the silk pillowcase, slowly coasting to sleep.

_Damn it, Ichigo. You better be okay._

XxXxXxX

Work was horrible today.

Absolutely, without a doubt, horrible.

Nnoitra was hanging out in my office again, as he has been for the past hour. Did he not realize how much I despised him? Did he not realize that every day of my life I wanted to pierce a javelin through his skull?

He'd first had sex with Ichigo when Ichigo was fourteen. _Fourteen._

What the _fuck?_

I watched the man from the corner of my eye. Nnoitra had a finger in his mouth to get food that was stuck between his teeth. The lunch break ended almost two hours ago. He was fishing for food in his mouth _now?_

But, of course, that did not deter him from talking.

"Ya know, Grimmie, I've been thinkin'."

"Grimmjow," I growled, but I didn't look up from my laptop.

"'Scuse me, Grimmjow. I've been thinkin' bout Ichigo."

I flinched, and my focus was no longer on my work, not that it really was to begin with. My focus zeroed in on Nnoitra and what his next words were going to be.

I voiced my inquiry. I masked my curiosity by speaking gruffly, my voice dripping in irritation, "What about him?"

Nnoitra successfully got the piece of food from between his teeth. He observed it thoughtfully before eating it.

"Do ya think he'd enjoy a cockring?"

If I'd been drinking something it would've spilled all over my clothes and keyboard. I stared at him with poorly concealed wrath. "Wh- _What?"_

Nnoitra shrugged. "I mean, s'just that he doesn't seem to enjoy it when we fuck. Maybe a cockring will help stimulate him a bit." He stared into space, and his gaze looked distant. A slow, perverted grin crossed his features, and I knew all too well where his thoughts were straying.

I took my calculator and threw it at him as hard as I could. Nnoitra yelped, fumbling in the chair but remaining seated. "Ugh, that was mean, Grimmie." He rubbed his forehead. "Does that mean you think it's a bad idea?"

" _Why_ are you so obsessed with him?" My gaze didn't leave his. I've wanted to ask this question for weeks. For fucking _forever,_ it felt like.

Nnoitra completely overlooked how serious my tone was. He merely shrugged, giving me a feral grin. "The guy's a hottie. I mean have you _seen_ him in bed—"

I shook my head. "Nnoitra, there _must_ be another reason."

He looked so damn clueless, as if there couldn't _be_ any other reason. Like the only reason Ichigo was born was to pleasure him and be pleasured. I withheld the sigh and sneer of condescension. He was exactly as superficial as I had predicted.

"Grimmie…have you fucked him yet?"

I blinked, and suddenly I was fiercely fighting back the blood that wanted to rush to my cheeks. "Of _course not. No._ What kind of dumbass question is that?"

Nnoitra's tongue appeared between his lips, long and disgusting. "Ya like him, don't ya?"

I could feel my mouth open and close clumsily. _Fuck._

I settled for a typical annoyed sneer. "Of course not. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter."

Nnoitra stood, the happy grin never leaving his face. "I'll let you in on a lil' secret." He leaned forward, and I was tempted to lean backward.

He said it with a whisper and hand over his mouth. "Ichigo's neck is real sensitive. If you kiss and nibble on it you're guaranteed to get a reaction from him." He winked at me then left, and all I could do was stare at the spot Nnoitra had been in moments ago. Ichigo's…Ichigo's neck was…was…

I could feel the immense heat in my cheeks. I gulped, and I loosened my suddenly confining tie with shaky hands. His skin _did_ look really soft. And his neck was so thin, so beautiful, so…kissable.

Did he like teeth? He seemed almost edible. Maybe if I could just barely sink my teeth into that smooth flesh? Nnoitra said I'd get a reaction from him. What kind of reaction? A moan? Actual arousal?

My pants felt uncomfortably tight, and it was then I realized where my thoughts had taken me. Fuck. I was straight. I ran a hand through my hair. This fucking Nnoitra was putting dirty thoughts in my head. God _damn_ it.

I tried to forcibly will my erection away, but images of Ichigo kept popping into my head.

I growled, and I stood from my desk. Fuck it, I needed some fresh air.

I left my office and took the stairs to the main floor. I ignored the glittery hopeful look from the receptionist and exited the building to be met with a cloudy sky and busy sidewalks.

My erection was finally dying down, and it was no longer uncomfortable to walk.

Yes, of course I was straight. I just hadn't fucked in a long time, and my hormones were raging all over the place. Anything and everything could make me horny. Even Ichigo.

It was way too crowded on the sidewalks, and I walked in a random direction.

I liked the nighttime best, but I could appreciate cloudiness, too. It blocked the sun so you didn't get fucking blinded, and it held a calmer, more subdued appearance. It made me want to reach out and touch the fluffiness.

I came across a small, rundown convenience store. I wouldn't have even considered going in, but someone through the window caught my eye.

I stopped moving, looking into the window curiously. She was a kid, short and with jet-black hair. She wore the same school uniform I'd seen her in before, and she was standing in line for the cashier. She was Ichigo's little sister.

Phantom hands pushed me forward, and I stepped into the small store without a second thought. The bell rang signifying a customer, and she turned to see me. It was probably an action out of habit. She squinted like I looked like someone familiar, but after a moment she turned her head back toward the cashier.

I didn't even know what I was doing here. This girl didn't _know_ me, she wouldn't even want to talk to me.

So why was I waiting by the entrance for her and looking like a fucking pedophile and stalker as I did so?

She paid for her items, thanking the cashier before grabbing her bag and walking away. I merely watched her as her eyes landed on me. I was leaning against the wall with my hands in my pockets, and her gaze filled with suspicion.

I pushed myself off the wall to follow her, and she swiftly stomped out of the store. I went outside and jogged to step into pace with her.

"What do you want?" she spat.

Damn, she was feisty. "I recognize this is random, but your Ichigo's sister, right? I know your brother—"

The rest of what I had to say went unspoken as all the color drained from the girl's face, and she was left a sickly white. She stopped walking. She stared at me with so much menacing anger. How could a kid her age feel anger so _potent?_

She was blinking away tears, and she took hesitant steps back as she yelled at me, "Get, get _away._ You're disgusting, you're _sick_. You _leave_ my brother alone, you hear me? You hear _me?"_

Somewhere we had fallen into a horrible misunderstanding. I couldn't think of anything to say as her clenched fists trembled, as if readying to fight. What did I do to already deserve her wrath? Did Ichigo talk about me to her? That this blue-haired guy he knew was shitty and sick and disgusting?

Then I understood. The lightbulb went off, and I immediately tried to do damage control. _Fuck,_ I'm so slow. It's so obvious.

I bent over to stand at eye-level with her, and she took a step back. "No no, I'm not… _that,_ okay? I promise. I'm Ichigo's friend. His _friend."_

The girl hissed in disbelief. "Ichigo doesn't _have_ friends. At least…not anymore." That last sentence was filled with grief.

I shook my head, hands up in surrender.

"We don't know each other well yet, but I swear I'm not an enemy. I want the best for Ichigo." The best. The absolute, goddamned best.

The girl scowled. "Fine, then when's his birthday?"

A small pause. "What?"

Her scowl deepened, and she hit me hard on the chest. "His birthday. You're his friend, right? You should know when his fucking birthday is."

Witnessing language like that come out of a girl so young was mind-boggling, but it really shouldn't have been. When I was her age I was the exact same way.

But fuck…I didn't know his birthday. I mean really, I knew next to nothing about him. All I knew was his job, his pain, and my own fierce desire to protect him.

I swallowed nervously. "I…I d-don't know his—"

And she was already walking away. Her feet stomped against the sidewalk, and she didn't look back.

My feet were cemented into the ground, but I knew I had to say something. If I could get this girl to trust me I could learn more about Ichigo. And _fuck,_ that's what I wanted more than anything.

I wasn't even thinking as I yelled to her. "I know both your parents are dead. That your father was murdered."

She came to an abrupt halt. She stared ahead, and I could only imagine the expression her face held right now. She was probably shocked. The only way I could've known that is if Ichigo had told me, right?

I was starting to understand the type of person Ichigo was. He would never share something so personal to a stranger. He trusted me, trusted me enough to share this secret.

After several moments, she slowly turned around. She stared at me with wonder, and after another few moments of reading me she began walking in my direction.

She passed me. "Come."

And I followed.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**I had promised a few that I'd have this posted over the weekend, so I sincerely apologize for the delay!**

**I hope it was still awesome for all!:)**


	6. Chapter 6

**XxXxXxX**

We ended up in a quaint little café. Few tables were occupied, and we sat in the corner of the room away from everyone. She'd gotten a Mountain Dew bottle out of her grocery bag and was lightly sipping on it.

"He didn't tell you…how our father was murdered. Did he?"

I shook my head sadly. "No…he didn't."

She nodded, like she'd expected as much. "Yuzu and I weren't there when it happened, and Ichi-nii never talks about it. I only know what little the police told us." She swallowed some more Mountain Dew then wiped her hand across her mouth. "Two robbers snuck into our home in the middle of the night, and they…they shot Dad."

I grimaced. To be able to talk about her father's murder and not cry…that was fucking impressive. She reminded me of Ichigo.

She continued, gaze so damn sad. "Dad probably died trying to protect Ichi-nii. But…but they took Ichi-nii away." She shook her head as if to shake away the bad thoughts.

I squinted in thought. Taken away? What did she mean by that? Like he physically _literally_ taken away?

"You mean, like…" I swallowed, the last word coming out as a scared whisper. "Kidnapped?" She nodded tersely, and she swallowed more Mountain Dew. It seemed more like a distraction technique than out of thirst.

But Ichigo was kidnapped? _Kidnapped?_ By _who?_ My teeth grit together, and I wanted more than anything to avenge Ichigo's pain.

My thoughts were jumbled when the girl's fist suddenly slammed into the table. I jolted, sitting up more to stare at her venomous gaze.

"The police…the fucking police said they were _'robbers'._ But how could they be? Robbers take _things,_ not _people_. None of our belongings were taken, only _Ichigo."_ Her elbows were on the table as her hands yanked at the roots of her hair. Her bottom lip quivered, and her teeth chattered against each other. "W-What does it mean…what does it mean…How could they have singled him out l-like that?"

She kept mumbling, but I couldn't understand any of it. My ears felt like they were filled with tar, and my eyes felt like they were dowsed with gasoline then thrown into a raging fire. Everything just _hurt. Fuck!_

My entire world felt like it was crumbling apart. Suddenly it seemed like nothing held meaning. I had thought I'd be able to save Ichigo. I had thought I'd be able to help him and make him happy.

Was he even capable of _feeling_ happy?

Maybe I shouldn't even try.

I could feel my body quaking, and I so badly needed a cigarette, a beer, _something._ "W-What happened to him…a-after?" My lips were shaking as badly as the rest of me, and I wondered if I truly wanted to know.

Tears prickled in her eyes, and she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know how, but…somehow he escaped. He'd…" Her bottom lip trembled. "Fuck, he was gone for two years. I…I-I don't even know what happened to him, but I do know it's still eating him up inside. He's so much sadder, he doesn't trust anyone, he doesn't have any friends."

She suddenly reached out a hand and yanked on my shirt. "He's not the Ichi I used to know, but he's still the Ichi I love. So please…" Her tears fell, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. The hand holding onto my shirt quivered. "Please help him."

I nodded feverishly, ashamed of my earlier thoughts. I could help Ichigo, I could and I _would._ If anyone deserves happiness it's Ichigo, and I'm going to give it to him. Without a fucking doubt.

But damn, his poor sisters. They weren't even provided closure while he was gone. Thoughts of Ichigo being alive yet unable to do anything about it must have plagued them all that time.

I swallowed. I cared about Ichigo, but I was somehow starting to care about his sisters, too. "W-What happened to you and Yuzu? After…"

I could tell the girl looked reluctant to share. I was considering changing my mind, explaining I didn't need to know, when she spoke.

She had a small, sad smile on her features, and she leaned her head into a hand. "We were put in a foster home, and soon placed with a foster family. It was…okay." She looked out the window and shook her head. "They were just too damn happy. Even Yuzu hated it there. It was like what had happened to us wasn't even real to them."

She picked up her forgotten Mountain Dew and gave it a swig. "By the time Ichigo escaped from whatever hell he'd been living in he was sixteen. He found us somehow, told our foster parents that he wanted us back."

She had a genuine smile on her young features now, and she looked lost in a memory. "Our foster parents hated that, but he fought for us like hell. Social Services said he could have us back when he was eighteen as long as he had enough to provide for us."

The hand holding her Mountain Dew was shaking now, and when she realized it she let it go like she'd been electrified.

She looked to me, and her eyes reeked of every sad and hopeless emotion I could recognize.

Her lips were trembling and tears filled her eyes. She put a shaking hand to her face. "That's when he started his…job, wasn't it? I bet that's when he started. H-He wanted us back _that_ badly." A sob tore through her chest, but she remained sturdy. Fuck, she was so much like Ichigo. So damn strong.

Tears flowed ceaselessly, but she had that sad, desolate smile on her face again. "He loves us _that_ much."

I hadn't even realized I was crying. Cold, fat tears dribbled down my cheeks, and I didn't even bother to wipe them away. Everything I was learning…it was too much. Too much agony, too much _everything._ It felt like I was literally drowning in Ichigo's pain. Every time I found something good, something happy to hold onto, the pain Ichigo has endured knocked me off and threw me back into the pit.

Was it even possible to save a kid like Ichigo? Was he too broken?

"How o-old is Ichigo now?" My voice sounded miserable. I sounded like I'd been crying and screaming for hours without stop. I sounded that broken.

The girl hesitantly grabbed her Mountain Dew bottle again, and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when she could grasp it without shaking. "He's nineteen. He's had us for over a year now, and I am eternally grateful for that." She shook her head. "T-There's no way we could ever, ever repay him for all he's done for us."

She looked at me suddenly with a strength and curiosity I wasn't expecting. She'd been so sad. How did she revive herself so quickly?

She watched me with keen eyes. "You're Grimmjow…aren't you?"

I blinked, mouth gaping open. "Y-Yeah. How..?" I was well-known, but this kid seemed too young to actually know who I was. Right...?

She smiled a big smile, and she seemed so glad she was right. "Ichi-nii has talked about you. How you're different, you're kind." She sniffled, and her smile grew even wider. "These past few weeks I've seen him smile more than I ever have since he came back to us. So…" She reached out and grasped my shoulder. "Help him. Please."

I stared at her in complete awe. Ichigo…Ichigo had talked about me. Ichigo had talked about _me._ Ichigo has smiled more because of me.

My hands clamped into tight fists, and my teeth grit hard against each other. My eyes smoldered with conviction.

I appreciated the girl's sentiment, but her words were unneeded.

I will make Ichigo the happiest kid in this whole goddamn world because _I_ want to. I will make him wake up every morning with a smile on his face. I will shower him with love and acceptance. I will make his pain a distant memory, and I will make damn sure he never knows anguish like that again.

I swear to it on my life.

I nodded, "I will." In those words resonated every ounce of conviction and resolve that manifested inside of me. I _will_ make Ichigo happy again. I _will_ save him.

My fierce determination seemed to reassure her, and she stood from her chair. She moved aside, pushing it in, and I remained where I was.

"Oh, and Grimmjow."

"Hm?"

"Ichigo has a…" She paused, as if suddenly wondering if she should be admitting this. "…phobia."

I straightened in my chair. "A phobia? Of what?"

The girl wasn't looking at me, but was instead gazing thoughtfully out the window. "I'm not gonna tell you. I have a feeling you'll find out someday. When y'all get a bit closer."

Then she turned to me, giving me an all-knowing grin.

She grabbed her Mountain Dew and grocery bag before walking away. "See ya," she said, still with that heir of "I know something that you don't." Fuck. She left me to rot and I was more curious than ever now. I hoped she was right that I'd find out someday. I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything about him.

After she left I sat at the table for a while longer, pondering everything I had learned. Ichigo's life up until now has been…truly, truly horrible.

I shook my head. But not anymore.

Without realizing it I'd remained in the café until employees were sweeping floors and a man was putting the "Closed" sign on the front door. I stood from my chair, ignoring the bodily aches from sitting so long. I walked outside and looked up at the dark night sky. I'll see Ichigo again. And when I do I'll show him what he means to me. I'd make sure of it.

XxXxXxX

For two days the conversation in that quaint little café plagued me. I had trouble concentrating at work. Sometimes I was so lost in thought I forgot to eat, and crossing the street was more of a hazard than ever before.

I fantasized, too. I imagined all the things I could accomplish to help Ichigo heal. I think I even portrayed his entire personality accurately. I thought up fake dialogue in my head, words that would be therapeutic and soothing. I wanted to be the best, so I had to do it _right._

So today, this morning, I decided to be pro-active. I hadn't seen Ichigo in over a week, and it was becoming clear it was _me_ that was going to have to take the initiative. He knew where I lived, he knew my cell phone number, _he_ could've come into contact with me if he wanted to.

He evidently didn't, so it was my turn again.

The other day the black-haired sister—that I _still_ didn't have a fucking name for—had been wearing a school uniform that belonged to only one local school.

And, like the massive stalker I was, I was currently standing right outside the front gates of said local school.

I checked my watch. It was 7:22am. I'd called in sick for work, not even bothering to don a sick voice as I spoke to the receptionist. She was either that gullible or didn't care, probably the latter. She giddily said she'd inform the boss, and it was when she started giving me her cell number that I hung up.

I looked around. If Ichigo was as protective as I thought he was he would be personally taking his sisters to school.

Multiple cars were lined up along the front of the school, and kissy-kissy mothers were waving goodbye to their beautiful amazing perfect children. I watched it like I'd watch a car wreck.

At 7:38 I noticed the brilliant orange I'd been searching for. But…it wasn't at all the way I'd been expecting.

 _All_ of these parents were dropping their kids off by vehicle. Nobody was fucking _walking_ here.

But…Ichigo and his sisters were.

My stomach rumbled in despair. Because Ichigo was a prostitute. Ichigo was poor. Ichigo didn't have the luxury of a car.

Ichigo seemed to notice me the same time I noticed him. His gaze didn't hold any suspicion, and that made me happy beyond belief. Little by little I was gaining Ichigo's trust.

He raised an eyebrow at me, and the black-haired sister was looking at Ichigo when the look was exchanged. She followed his gaze and noticed me. The response she displayed was a very similar expression to Ichigo's. Not suspicious, just…curious.

The last one to notice me was Yuzu, and her response was horrifically, absolutely the one I was least expecting.

Of Ichigo's sisters I had assumed only the one from the café knew of my existence. I had never met Yuzu, and she seemed too young to know about someone like me.

My assumption was evidently wrong. When she noticed me her eyes immediately lit up, and she let go of Ichigo's hand. She raced toward me, her gait awkward but determined.

I prepared myself for her arrival. I got up off the gates and walked toward her a few steps. Her pure innocent eyes were big with joy, and I was almost frightened by this level of happiness.

She soon squealed, "Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez, what are _you_ doing here?" She ran up to me, throwing her thin arms around my waist.

I hid my flinch, and I stared in horror at the teddy bear-sized little girl wrapped around me.

I had to stay calm, though. I could feel both the other sister and Ichigo's stares. I had to stay on my best behavior.

"Hey, little girl. How are you today?"

"I'm perfect, Grimmjow. Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's really you." Her smile suddenly widened, and I was surprised that was possible. "Are you here to visit the school, Grimmjow? Is that why you're here?"

I gave her a chuckle and a gentle pat on the head. The other two were standing in front of us now, and I nudged my head in Ichigo's direction. "Naw, sorry, kid. I'm actually here to visit your brother."

The black-haired sister's twitch of a smile didn't go unnoticed, and Yuzu did an "ah" of disappointment.

That disappointment dissipated in a flash, though. "That's fine! Maybe I'll see you later?"

I pondered it, and I wondered what Ichigo thought about all this. I glanced at him, and my train of thought faltered. His face…he had such an indefinable expression on his features. I couldn't read it. I didn't understand. Did I do something wrong?

I gulped silently, and I went ahead with the affirmative. "Fuc—Heck yeah, kid, you'll see me around. Maybe I'll swing later," I added with a wink. If I had more time to spend with Ichigo, maybe I could also figure out why he had looked like… _that._

"Okay!" she said, and she gave me the happiest, brightest smile. Even I couldn't help but return the smile. _What a cute kid._

She hopped over to Ichigo, giving him a peck on the cheek. "See you later, Ichi-nii!" She grabbed her sister's hand. "Come on, Karin!" I absently nodded to myself. _Fucking_ finally, _I know her name. Karin._

Karin and Yuzu went into the school, Yuzu waving frantically bye at us.

When they had crossed the threshold and were out of sight Ichigo turned to me. He was curious, but he still had that certain _something_ shadowing his features. "Why are you here, Grimmjow? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Was he trying to be a mother hen? To _me?_

I stifled a laugh. "Meh, wasn't feeling it today."

He nodded slowly, and I suddenly felt bad. I could afford to miss work a lot. I could afford to not get paid. Could Ichigo?

"Why are you here?"

Damn, he caught that, did he?

I shrugged, ignoring the other kids that chattered loudly as they walked into the school.

"I dunno, it's been a while since I've seen you. So…I wanted to see you."

Ichigo's blank expression screamed shocked, but he hid it well. I was starting to get better at reading his emotions.

"I…see."

I shifted from one foot to another, trying to get his gaze back on me. "Want to go get breakfast? I know an amazing place nearby."

Ichigo looked up at me, and he shook his head. "I can't afford to use money on something like that."

What? He thought I'd actually been intending to let him _pay?_ "No need. I'm paying."

"No, you're not."

"I most certainly am."

"No."

"Yes."

Ichigo had a small scowl on his features, and he paused in thought. I knew I was victorious when he finally sighed. He gave in, "Okay, fine."

I couldn't hide the grin that threatened to spread all over my face. I led him to the restaurant, resisting the urge to grab his hand. That would've been absolutely ridiculous.

"So what have you been up to?" I asked as we walked.

He shrugged. "Same stuff, really."

My smile faltered. Ah…his job.

My smile threatened to disappear altogether, but I didn't let it. This was Grimmjow-Ichigo time. I wouldn't let it go to waste.

I swallowed. "Have you ever…thought about quitting?"

He looked straight ahead as he walked, hands deep in his pockets. "I have."

That made me unexpectedly super happy. "And?"

"I can't afford to."

I grit my teeth. That wasn't the answer I wanted.

My mind searched for more conversation straws to grasp at, and I instantly remembered.

But I felt hesitant. I allowed a few more moments pause before speaking. I asked somberly, "Why did you have that face? From…before."

Ichigo turned his head to me, and I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. "What face?" he asked.

I thought to myself, _maybe he didn't even realize it._

I shrugged nonchalantly, like it wasn't important. "When Karin and Yuzu were here. When Yuzu was hugging me like she wanted to suffocate me. You made a face."

I peeked at him again, and I saw that comprehension lit his features now.

For several moments he didn't speak. He kicked a rock that was lying innocently on the sidewalk. "For a long time Yuzu has been obsessed with you." Ichigo blatantly didn't look in my direction, and his voice was almost sullen. "I guess sometimes I'm a bit…jealous."

I watched him, then looked away. I hated that, but I understood. I'd be jealous, too. Ichigo has sacrificed so much, but Yuzu was obsessed with a guy she's never even met, a guy who's never given her anything. Before Ichigo and I had even met he was jealous of me, probably detested me.

Even if that was never Yuzu's intention, even if she was completely innocent…I still loathed her a little. Ichigo should never have to feel something like that.

I stared up at the sky, and I could feel Ichigo's gaze on me as I did so. The sun was bright and a few clouds lit up the blue canvas. It was pretty, but...I liked the darkness better.

"I saw you shopping with your sisters at the grocery store once. You were great with them. They…" A bird passed through my field of vision, and I smiled fondly. "They seemed to really look up to you."

I didn't want to tell him about my encounter with Karin. He probably wouldn't approve, and for some reason it didn't feel right sharing what I knew now. I wanted Ichigo to one day be able to tell me himself. There was still so much I didn't know.

I could feel Ichigo's intent gaze on me, and I turned to fully look at him. He almost seemed like he was in a state of shock.

I grinned, and I reached out a finger to lightly trace his jaw.

That snapped him out of his thoughts, and he immediately slapped my hand away.

I snickered, and we continued along as we did before. The small restaurant was in sight, and when we arrived I opened the door, allowing him first entrance.

It was a quaint place, similar to the café Karin had taken me to. I led Ichigo to a small circular table by the window.

Ichigo moved to sit, and I suddenly felt the urge to push his chair in for him. My hands reached out but I stopped abruptly in astonishment. What the fuck was I _doing?_

I pulled back before he noticed. 1) This is not a date. 2) Ichigo is a guy. 3) I am fucking straight. All of these reasons dictate I not push Ichigo's chair in.

I ignored the pang in my gut when I noted the third reason. I wasn't ready to jump that hurdle yet.

But more than that, why the hell did that even come up in my brain? I've never gone on a date before. I've never pushed anyone's chair in. I've only seen that in movies or from stupid couples in restaurants.

I sat in my own chair across from his. I hadn't so much as touched Ichigo's chair, and that was for the better. No matter how much a small part of me said otherwise.

Menus were already set on the table, and he observed his thoughtfully.

Soon a waiter had arrived, and he asked for our orders.

I spoke, "Black coffee, three blueberry pancakes, and a side of sausage. "

He nodded, wrote it down, then looked to Ichigo. "And you, sir?"

"Chocolate milk and a waffle, please."

I blinked in astonishment. Chocolate milk? _Chocolate milk?_ I had to beat down the fierce desire to kiss the kid. God, that was adorable.

Did this kid have an inner child I didn't know about? I was suddenly insanely curious.

I hadn't even realized the waiter left, and Ichigo was looking at me weirdly. I wondered if my facial expressions gave anything away. I hoped I wasn't being too obvious.

"I didn't know you liked chocolate milk."

An eyebrow rose as he looked at me. "I didn't know you liked black coffee. What's your point?"

"That we clearly don't know very much about each other."

Ichigo thought for a moment, then gave a face of agreement. "I would concede to that."

"When's your birthday?"

Both eyebrows were in the air. "You want to get to know me by asking when my birthday is?"

I chuckled, running an awkward hand through my hair. "Well, I ran into someone the other day and…long story short apparently a person's birthday is an important thing to know." I leaned forward in my chair. "Sooo?"

He looked at me like I had twelve heads, but he gave in with a sigh. "My birthday is July 15."

My eyes lit up. "Oh, that's cool. Mine's July 31."

"How is that cool?"

My hand hit the table. "Because we were born in the same _month, asshole."_

That produced an uncharacteristic smile from Ichigo, and he covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. I found myself unable to look away. His cheeks dimpled, and his eyes were crescent-shaped like the moon.

When Ichigo deemed it safe he removed his hand, waving it up carelessly. "Fine. It's cool. For our birthdays let's buy matching pink Corvettes and drive around like glamorous Barbies."

I stared at him stunned before barking out a laugh. This kid was a little shit, but he was a hilarious little shit.

"Your sarcasm reeks, kid." I had to hold my belly to make sure it didn't burst.

While I was in my stupor the waiter came back with our drinks and food.

We thanked him then dug in. The overall conversation lulled, but a few comments were still made. In fact, even in the spots of silence I never felt awkward or uncomfortable. I just enjoyed his company. If this was a date— _if_ being the key word—I probably would've tried for a second one.

Good thing this wasn't a date.

We were about halfway done when I noticed someone in my peripheral. He wasn't familiar to me, was nobody I knew, and he was walking in our direction. His clothes were blatantly not waiter apparel—he was like some middle-aged fucking black-haired emo bastard—, and his eyes were solely on Ichigo. He was staring at him with an expression that reminded me of a deadly predator that had just caught sight of its prey.

I had a clue what kind of person this guy was, and I stood just before he reached our table. I put a firm hand to his chest, halting him.

"What are you doing?"

Moments ago the man had a feral, disgusting smirk, but it was now replaced by stark irritation, and a little confusion. He scoffed. "Who the fuck are you? You his boyfriend?"

My eyes glared into his, smoldering with anger. I was not fucking around. This guy was going to leave, or I was going to fuck him up.

The guy seemed to read something dark in my expression, and his anger faltered.

My tone was cold and unforgiving. "Leave."

Leave, or I will make you leave. With a limp and eyepatch.

His eyes flickered uncertainly to Ichigo, and I could tell Ichigo was surprised. He said nothing, merely watching as the scene unfolded.

After a moment emo bastard took the hint, backing away with hands up. "Fine. I'll just fuck him later."

I growled and took a step forward, and he suddenly backed up a lot faster. He scurried out the door, leaving the restaurant.

I seethed in silent anger. How could I forget? I was having so much fun with Ichigo that I'd forgotten what his occupation was, what I needed to protect him from.

I mentally shook my head. Not anymore.

I sat back down. I think I had made a scene with some of the people nearby, but I didn't care. They'd get over it, or I'd just threaten them, too.

I felt Ichigo's gaze on me, but I ignored it and looked out the window, analyzing my actions. I hadn't even been thinking when I did that. I just… _did._ I wanted to protect Ichigo, and I didn't want anyone else touching him.

My thoughts turned to my earlier musings. When the waiter had asked for our orders I had wondered if Ichigo had an "inner child." I now decided that, no…he probably didn't. It was almost like the universe was mocking him with his chocolate milk. He ordered chocolate milk, _chocolate milk,_ yet people wanted him like that. Perverted, ravenous hands reached out to take him, to use him. Ichigo wasn't a kid, not at all…

"—mmjow. Grimmjow. Grimmjow."

I heard the sound of snapping fingers, and my head snapped up to see Ichigo's impatient face near mine, his fingers even closer than that.

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

His face was so close, closer than I was used to. We've walked side-by-side so close our shoulders almost brushed together, but even then we never made true eye contact. But, now…now I could see into his eyes. They were brown, but they had a hint of another color.

I huffed, stabbing my sausage with a fork as I continued to stare into his eyes. What _color_ was that? I couldn't figure it out. It certainly wasn't just brown… "Wrong with me?" I asked in between chewing. "Why would anything be _wrong_ with me?"

He scowled, and then he sat back in his chair, away from me. I almost reached out to yank him back. I hadn't been _done,_ damn it.

I kept my cool, though. I swallowed my food and watched his eyes from afar. Maybe I could see...?

Nope, too far away to see it now. Fuck. But his eyes were definitely two-toned, I was sure of it.

Ichigo took a bite out of his waffle. "Something's wrong with you because I said your name fourteen times and you merely stared into space like a brain-dead monkey."

"I wouldn't have stared into space like a brain-dead monkey if you hadn't have ordered that damn chocolate milk."

He stared at me like I was mental. "How is my chocolate milk pertinent to you being a monkey?"

"Wait, I thought you said I looked _like_ a monkey. Now I _am_ a monkey?"

"Next time I go to the store I'll buy you a banana."

I gaped at him, not able to stop the amused smirk that spread across my face. My brain was trying to decide if I should burst into laughter or have a temper tantrum.

My brain was also trying to decide if it wanted to pull Ichigo into a hug and never let him go.

God-fucking-damn it.

I snorted at him, ignoring all present impulses. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

He took a sip of chocolate milk, watching me the whole time. Like he was _mocking_ me.

I leaned forward, suddenly smirking. "Do you need a saucer for your milk, baby kitten?"

Ichigo immediately choked, and I watched him spew and cough in outrage.

 _"Excuse me?"_ he finally gasped.

I grinned, using my hands to demonstrate his small size. "You're a baby kitten. A baby orange kitten with adorable paws and a cute little tail."

He looked like he wanted to slit both my carotid arteries, but he merely threw his used napkin onto the table. His gaze was venomous. "I am nothing of the sort."

I smirked victoriously, taking a sip of my coffee. "Next time I go to the store I'll buy you a saucer of milk." As an afterthought I added with a wink, "I'll make sure it's chocolate-flavored."

Ichigo's cheeks flushed and his eye twitched in incredulity, and suddenly I realized that wink may have been a lot more suggestive than I intended.

Our conversation was abruptly halted when the waiter arrived. I felt blood fill my cheeks, and the waiter was smiling an odd, mysterious smile. He pulled something from his apron pocket and set down a single bill.

I had forgotten to tell him not to split the bill, but he had clearly already known. How could he have known? You only did that with couples or married people or…

My train of thought stopped, and comprehension flooded me. I squeezed my eyes shut. The mantra _I am straight_ repeated in my head a dozen times before I'd recovered enough to open them.

I took the bill with a huff, and he walked away, visibly amused.

Fuck this waiter. He was getting a damn lousy tip.

I was _straight,_ goddamn it.

Ichigo watched him go with confusion, his gaze switching between the waiter and me. I said nothing; it wasn't in my best interest to clue him in.

I paid with cash, reluctantly leaving the waiter a tip. He didn't deserve it, but what the hell.

I checked to see both our plates were empty before I stood, and Ichigo followed suit. We walked out of the restaurant, and I opened the door for Ichigo.

I stepped outside to stand alongside the kid. He was looking up at the sky, his gaze contemplative. "Thanks for the food, Grimmjow."

He'd said it so genuinely, and whatever sour mood I'd been in dissipated like it was nothing. I smiled at him somberly. "You're welcome, Ichigo." The smile turned to a grin, "So what now?"

Ichigo glanced at me in surprise. "Now? Now we part."

I resisted the urge to pout like a fucking child. "What? Whyyy?"

"I have things I need to get done."

I swallowed uneasily. "Is that code for 'I have to go do my job'?"

Ichigo's gaze was to the ground, and that was good as confirmation as any.

_Fuck._

But I couldn't demand he not do it. I couldn't control his life, I couldn't say no. I didn't have the right.

Was there _anything_ I could do?

"Give me your number."

His eyes met mine. "What?"

I pulled out my smartphone. "I gave you my number, now you have to give me yours."

He rolled his eyes but proceeded to recite his cell. I inputted him into my contacts, and then I held out a hand. "Let me see your phone."

"Why?"

"Just let me see it."

He looked tempted to decline. After a moment he pulled it out and slapped it into my palm.

It was a flip phone, some infinitely old Nokia, and suddenly I wondered if my plan would work. This phone was so ancient, how many customizations did it even _allow?_

I tinkered with it, loving the way Ichigo was staring at me and occasionally trying to look over my shoulder. Being in such close proximity with him was exhilarating.

A few minutes later and I was flipping his phone closed and handing it back to him. "There you go."

"What'd you do?"

"You'll find out."

He huffed, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "Fine."

I let out a shaky breath, and my thoughts strayed to another topic. "Ichigo…," I muttered, voice unintentionally pained.

He seemed to sense my change in mood, and he looked up at me.

My entire body felt stiff, and I hated each and every person that passed by me with a smile on their face. "A-Are you okay, from…before?"

Ichigo paused, and I could tell he was trying to understand.

I continued. "When you, when you were…"

Comprehension appeared on his features. "Yes, I'm fine."

"What if someone tries to do that again?"

Ichigo shrugged, toeing the ground. "It's just one of the risks with this kind of job." His body quivered slightly, and I knew he was lost in the past. "I…I won't just l- _let_ it happen if that's what you're wondering." He shook his head. "And I'm not weak. More often than not I escape."

I placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and his gaze jumped up to meet mine.

"Ichigo. If at any point on the job, or just fucking walking around, you don't feel _safe,"_ My dark eyes burned into his, resolute and dangerous. "Call me."

The quivering stop, and his current gaze reminded me of the look he had when I stopped that emo bastard in the restaurant. He looked gracious, but he looked more than that. He looked…happy. He looked _genuinely_ happy.

"O-Okay. I will." He smiled the smallest of smiles at me, and I could feel myself melting in it.

I nodded, returning his beautiful smile. "Good." My voice sounded alarmingly shaky. Was I that affected by something as simple as his smile?

His admiring gaze slowly dissolved, and he shifted from one foot to the other. His face now presented a frown.

Goddamn. So this was the moment I had been dreading. _This_ was the moment we parted.

I had been stalling. I had been delaying his departure for as long as I could. I internally sighed. There was nothing I could do anymore.

"Text me when you're done, okay?"

He looked hesitant. "Like…done for the day?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

He avoided my gaze, and his hand fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"That'll be…a while."

I didn't skip a beat. "I don't care."

After a long pause he slowly nodded. "Alright…I'll text you."

"Good." I smirked at him and patted his arm. "Now go away."

He smirked back, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk in the opposite direction. "Brain-dead monkey," he huffed.

I countered him easily, purring the word, "Kitten."

He turned his head to glare at me, and the one visible cheek was a beautiful pink.

I laughed. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face even if I tried, and I walked away already waiting for Ichigo's text.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Chapter 6 comes to a close. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Learning about Ichigo's past isn't over, there's still more to come:D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to any and all who have made it to this point! And thank you devil_jin for reviewing and inspiring me to post another chapter. <3**

**Enjoy Chapter 7!**

XxXxXxXxX

10:20pm and still no text. An hour ago I'd forced myself to stop pacing. How long was he intending to _work?_

Karin and Yuzu were probably home now worrying about him, Karin probably more so. I got the impression Yuzu wasn't as…perceptive of Ichigo's occupation.

I was lying on my couch, staring up at the ceiling. With nothing to do my thoughts wandered, and they drifted into a territory that was foreign and scary to me.

Ichigo…my little kitten. Ever since I met Ichigo he has distracted me in nearly every aspect of my life. It was almost mindboggling how much I've thought about him these past few weeks. I was obsessed with Ichigo in literally every sense of the word. I wanted to remove his pain, but I also just wanted to _be_ with him.

Was I…I gulped. Was I possibly not straight?

Oh gods…I did not want to think about this right now. I lifted my head off the cushion. I needed something, fucking _anything,_ to distract me. I examined my living room and kitchen clutter.

Earlier today I had taken advantage of my endless Ichigo ponderings and actually cleaned some of my apartment. I mindlessly put items away as the forefront of my brain focused on Ichigo, my hands on auto-pilot as they set items in their proper place.

Inspecting the area now it was much better. There were no more cardboard boxes strewn around. Albeit, there was still the dilemma of dirty dishes, dust piled a mile high, and a dreadful amount of apparel scattered throughout the living room.

But it was a start, and it looks a thousand times better than before.

I checked the clock. _10:56pm._

I checked my phone. _Still_ no text.

I was tired of sitting around like a lovestruck hormonal teenager waiting for their lover to come home. I needed to _do_ something. What was a monotonous task I could accomplish that didn't involve cleaning and didn't involve Ichigo?

Ultimately, I chose to leave the apartment and go check my mail. It was a boring alternative, but one I wasn't opposed to.

I lived on the fourth floor, but all the mailboxes were set up on the first. Slightly inconvenient but, structurally, it made the most sense, I guess.

I used the stairs. Standing still for any period of time in an elevator risked my thoughts lingering into Ichigo-territory, and that was not acceptable.

I clamored my way to the first floor when I all but stumbled into someone, almost knocking them to the ground.

Fuck, I really needed to pay more attention. This was like when I'd first met Ichigo and had essentially run him over.

Gods, there I was, thinking about Ichigo _again._

…Wait.

I looked at the person in front of me.

What?

I couldn't find the right words. My mouth floundered like a fish. "…Ichigo?"

Ichigo looked up at me, seeming just as stunned as I was. "Uh...hey."

I was still just staring at the kid, as if at any moment expecting him to vanish. My thoughts had revolved around him so exclusively that I almost didn't know what to do now that he was here in the flesh. I knew I was staring, but I just couldn't help it. Ichigo was here, Ichigo was here. 

Then I was pissed. "What the hell, Ichigo, you never _texted_ me."

He matched my level of tone. "That's because I'm not _done_ yet."

I blinked at him. Well I'm stupid. "Oh. Sorry…" I cocked my head to the side. "Then what are you doing here?"

Ichigo appeared hesitant, his gaze flickering away. His facial expression was blank, but I noticed him fidget with the hem of his sleeve. "I'm visiting someone."

I motioned for him to follow me, and I opened my designated mailbox. "Oh yeah? Who?" I was curious if it was someone I knew.

"Barragan."

My hand was in the mailbox when my whole body froze.

My chest ached terribly, and I found it suddenly hard to breathe.

I really was stupid.

I turned and eyed him vigilantly, and he seemed like he was trying to hide himself. Why did he have to look so desolate? Why did he have to look so ashamed of his job and his life and his existence?

I vowed to myself that I would never let that look grace his face ever again.

His shoulders were hunched, as if trying to escape the world, and I decided enough was enough. I put my mail back into the mailbox (because fuck it), and I took a step toward Ichigo.

He immediately took a step back. "Don't laugh. Please don't laugh."

The way he said it, oh god the way he said it. It made me want to break down and weep at the thought of how tortured this kid was. Has someone laughed at him before? Today?

Before Ichigo could react or protest I closed the distance between us, pulling him into a fierce, life-crushing hug. I felt his muscles pressed against mine, and the warmth of his body was intoxicating. His orange hair smelled fruity while the rest of him had a musky, masculine scent. The contrast was heady, and it made me even more allured to him.

"I would never laugh at you," I whispered into his ear, so grave and so deadly serious there was no way he could interpret it any other way.

Ichigo deflated into my clutches, his entire body seeming to melt into me. I gladly took his weight as my own, holding him close.

One of his hands had moved to grip the back of my shirt, and a small portion of me hoped he did the same with the other hand. He was so warm, and I felt the odd, strong desire to be wrapped up in Ichigo, to be drowned in Ichigo.

My hand rested on the back of his neck, my fingers dancing along the little wisps of hair there. "Ichigo…" I waited until I got a head nod, or some form of recognition, but none came. I reluctantly pulled him away from me, just enough for us to make eye contact. This was important.

"Ichigo, come to my room after you…finish with Barragan. Promise me."

Ichigo stared into my eyes for what felt like forever, and I stared right back. I didn't know what my expression looked like, but Ichigo looked just as captivated as I was.

And in that moment I figured out the second color in Ichigo's eyes. There were clear, vibrant hints of gold swimming in that beautiful brown. I barely stopped myself from reaching out to touch his fucking eyeballs. They were so beautiful.

Finally, Ichigo nodded, slowly pulling himself away. "Okay."

I was stern in my conviction. "Promise."

He glanced at me again, his chocolate and caramel eyes holding a hint of surprise. "I promise."

I didn't know why I was so adamant on this arrangement, but I knew I didn't want Ichigo to suffer alone.

I nodded, pleased, and led him up the stairs. My heart hurt, my chest was about to explode, and my belly was about to eat itself.

I genuinely felt like I was leading Ichigo to his death.

It was slow progress we made, but eventually—too soon, too goddamn soon—we were standing in front of Barragan's door. Ichigo was looking at it in dismay, and I wanted to reach out to him, to sooth his pain somehow.

He swallowed, turning to me, and I stared back. "I'm gonna try not to be…loud." He gulped. "But no promises. He really likes t-toys."

I tried not to make a face, I tried to remain stoic. _Barragan, you disgust me. You're so fat I hope your blood sugar levels escalate so high you go into kidney failure. I hope the blood vessels in your body weaken and you die of a brain aneurysm. Suffer as you have made Ichigo suffer._

The kid continued speaking, averting his eyes to instead gaze at the door. "I don't know how long I'll be. Are…Are you sure…"

I spoke with total conviction. "I'm sure." He looked back at me. If he doesn't come to my place after Barragan I will punch a hole through every wall in my apartment.

I swallowed nervously, so fucking scared for him. He's had Barragan as a client in the past already. He's _survived._ He survived those and he can survive this one.

But that didn't mean he shouldn't take precautions. "Give me your phone."

Ichigo pouted, and he adorably sounded like a little kid, "What, _again?"_

I smirked. "Come on kitten, don't be like that. I googled how to make my number on speed dial for your ancient-ass phone so give it to me."

He huffed, exaggerating his efforts and slapping the phone into my hand.

A minute later and the deed was done. I handed it back to him. "All you have to do is press and hold the number 6 and it'll call me."

"Why 6?"

"I like the number 6, got a problem with that?"

I watched Ichigo's cheekbones as they worked hard not to smile. It was devastating. _Please, just_ smile. _Your smile is so fucking beautiful._

I shook the madness from my thoughts and got back on task. I wasn't done with my teaching.

Without thinking I placed a hand on Ichigo's shoulder, and he looked back up at me.

"Keep an eye out for any signs he'll want to harm you. Don't make him angry if you can help it. Make sure all the kitchen knives and scissors and shit like that aren't within his reach." I put a finger to my chin. "Though now that I think about it it'd be _quite_ ideal if they were in reach for _you."_

My eyes widened in horror. "And don't let him _anywhere_ near fucking rope or handcuffs or shit. That's _not_ safe. You need to be freely moveable and able to escape at all times. If you need me to—."

_"Grimmjow."_

I reluctantly stopped talking, and I paused. "…What?"

"…Stop."

I pouted, but remained silent.

He peeled my hand off of his shoulder and put it back by my side. "I will be fine. Seriously." He stared at me until I finally agreed, nodding.

He nodded at my nod, satisfied.

I sobered up, expression dark and dismal. His breathtaking eyes were on me again, and I felt the strength coming off of them. This kid has been through so fucking much yet here he was, surging forward and not looking back.

He was still looking at me as a small, sad smile reached his features. "Thanks."

Why was he thanking me? What did I do to deserve his gratitude? "For what?"

That small smile remained, and it took my breath away. "For caring."

All I could do was stare.

For so long it's just been him and his sisters. No one else has put in the effort to get to know them, or help them, or protect them. But here I was, doing all of those things.

And, somehow I knew, I was here to stay.

I returned the smile, and in that moment I could think of nothing I could do to properly demonstrate how welcome I was. No words seemed appropriate enough, and if I reached out to hug him I'd absolutely never let him go.

Smile ever-present I looked to the floor, bent at the waist, and bowed.

XxXxXxX

It was midnight and still no Ichigo. Half an hour ago I had walked into my bedroom to change clothes when muffled, but distinct sex sounds could be heard through the wall. Listening to Ichigo moan had made me hard enough to cut steel, and I raced out of the room before I had to "take care of" my problem.

With everything Ichigo's been through, it almost felt wrong to masturbate to him.

But now I sat here, on my usual couch, mulling over more goddamn revelations I've had. While I was absolutely sick to my stomach worrying about Ichigo, I had also run into a weird as fuck dilemma about myself. _Again._ I was 24 years old. By now I should _know_ my sexual orientation. I should _know_ what gender I liked.

So then why the _hell_ was I so confused? Why did everything become so different when Ichigo was involved? Why was I so engrossed by everything about him? I had just admitted I would have _masturbated_ to him.

Everything was so mindboggling. I had realized I was attached, and yeah, subconsciously I recognized he was attractive—damn attractive. But did that mean I had to be gay? Couldn't I just admire fine art when it was in front of me?

But, strangely, this felt different, and I knew it.

I swallowed nervously. I was finally beginning to understand my feelings for him. They were so unfamiliar, so strange, and I had the fucking craziest butterflies jolting against my stomach walls. Was that even normal? Was I _supposed_ to experience something this fucking crazy?

Though, honestly, I kinda enjoyed it.

A quiet, tentative knock floated into my ears, and it instantly jolted me from my thoughts. I leapt from my position on the couch, fucking flying to the door.

I opened it in record time to see Ichigo standing there. He was slightly out of breath, and his hair in disarray. I looked down to see his shirt was ripped fully down the middle, exposing part of his muscular torso.

"What the…?" I couldn't finish as I stared in horror. Did that fucking Barragan rip his fucking shirt? Who the _fuck_ did he think he was?

I ushered Ichigo in with soft touches and kind words. I wasn't even listening to what I was saying; all I knew was that my lips were moving and Ichigo wasn't reacting negatively toward whatever the hell I was jabbering about.

We reached the living room, and I escorted him to the couch. "I'll get you another shirt, just rest here." I helped him sit as though he were a fucking cripple, staying by his side for as long as I could get away with. His expression was still darkened with pain, with anguish, but there was also just a glimmer of amusement.

Was my pampering that obvious?

I ran to my room, sticking my hand in my shirt drawer and grabbing the first one I felt.

Back in the living room I slowed to an unexpected halt. Ichigo had already taken off his shredded shirt, and I could do nothing but stare in awe.

His body…his body was beautiful.

I just stared. Moments of silence commenced, but I didn't realize if it may or may not have been filled with awkwardness. All I took in was the sweat that still dribbled down his torso, the numerous hickeys that made me infuriated, but also so _fucking jealous,_ and the perky, standing-at-attention nipples I just wanted to squeeze between my fingers.

"D-Do you…"

My eyes immediately jumped up to his face— _where they fucking_ should _have been_ , I snapped at myself—and his cheeks were red with something that looked like mortification.

He was watching the clock on my wall tick, and he brought a tentative hand to his chest. I couldn't help but notice the tremor in his hand.

"Do you w-want to…buy me?"

At the second-to-last word he had turned his gaze to me, and in that moment I realized how much I fucked up.

How could I do this to Ichigo? I couldn't even imagine how degraded he felt every day of his life. The vile remarks from his clients, the disgusting things they did to him. Wasn't I supposed to be the one to heal him, to make him better? Hadn't that been my intention all along?

But no…instead I was acting like fucking _Nnoitra._ Obsessing over his body instead of the person he had become. I was nothing but a pervert. I was scum.

_Ichigo…have I just lost your trust?_

I could barely hold myself up anymore. I stumbled toward the couch and landed on my knees in front of him. I held out the shirt in an outstretched hand.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

I dipped my head forward, leaning it against the arm of the couch. It was very, very rare for someone like me to apologize, but for some reason it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It didn't feel weird coming from my lips at all when the subject of my apologies were to this kid.

"I…I didn't treat you with respect. I was just being an obnoxious fucking idiot. I don't think of you as an object, or as something I can buy. I will never buy you, and I have no reason to. I see you as a person, an equal." My hand was balled into a fist, and I was squeezing it hard enough to turn white. This was so hard, so goddamn hard. I wanted to say everything _right,_ I wanted it to be _perfect._ I was just fucking everything up more.

I surged on, voice barely above a whisper. "I would, I would understand if you w-wanted to leave…I won't stop you."

I didn't realize my eyes were closed until I opened them and saw the beige of my couch. Scared of rejection, I faced my fears and finally looked up to Ichigo. My breath caught in my throat as I saw unshed tears shimmering in his eyes. Oh god, I really _did_ fuck everything up more, didn't I, god I'm so _stup—_.

And then suddenly there was warmth.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you."_ Ichigo's arms were wrapped around my neck, so warm and welcoming they felt like the sun. His voice sounded unsteady, but happier than I've ever heard it since I've met him. I absently wondered if those words were the words he's been waiting to hear all these years.

I returned the embrace, the giddiest, most ridiculous smile on my face.

We stayed wrapped in each other's arms for what felt like hours. Happy, blissful, I-hope-this-never-ends hours.

But too soon Ichigo was pulling away. He didn't look sad, though. He looked…content. Happy.

I smiled at that.

I finally stood, my knees popping and feet asleep. I turned to see my wall clock. _1:45am._

My mind immediately veered to when Ichigo was being hurt in the alleyway. It was late as fuck; it wasn't safe. There was no way I could let Ichigo walk back home at this time of night.

I turned back to face Ichigo, who had finished slipping on the shirt I gave him. He didn't fill it out as much as I would, but he made that shirt look a thousand times better than I ever did.

I scratched at the back of my head. "It's gotten pretty late. Would you…would you be okay with staying here for the night?"

Ichigo contemplated for a moment, then nodded. "Th-That would be okay."

I did a victory dance in my head and barely resisted the urge to pump my fists in victory. Instead I remained as composed as I could, waving a hand for him to follow me.

I took him into the bedroom. "You can sleep here, and the bathroom's on the right. You should be able to find everything you need, but let me know if you don't."

I turned to look at Ichigo to see if he had any questions, and I almost did a double take. The Ichigo I saw now was hundreds of degrees different than the last one. Five minutes ago he'd been so happy, and now he was…scared? Anxious?

Even as I stood and stared not two feet from him he refused to make eye contact. "W-Where…Where are you sleeping?" he asked. His voice sounded so goddamn nervous.

My chest felt something akin to heartache, and I couldn't hide the pain in my expression. Did he really think I was going to hurt him? Did he think I was going to… _rape_ him or something? I was struggling to fight back tears.

He still didn't trust me at all.

"Don't worry, Ichigo. I'll be sleeping on the couch."

I didn't watch his reaction, and I didn't want to. I didn't want to see the elation on his face when he discovered I wouldn't be molesting him in the middle of the night.

"Sleep well, goodnight," I said numbly as I walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me. There was a lock installed on the door so maybe he'd take advantage of that, too…

Hadn't I fixed the fuck-up I made earlier? I'd stared at him, lusted after him, but didn't I right my wrong with words?

But words are never enough, are they? You can say "I won't rape you" as many times as you want, but when you stare at a man's nipples and chest for god-only-knows how long your first instinct is "danger," "liar."

I wanted to drown in my sorrows. One look at the couch and I knew I wouldn't be sleeping tonight. How could I sleep when the kid in the other room was so scared of me? He was scared I'd _hurt him._

So instead I grabbed a beer from the fridge—good thing I re-stocked—and sunk into my couch, hoping for death. Maybe my father had it right all along. Maybe getting drunk was truly a sensible option. I shouldn't have felt so damn self-loathing, but I couldn't help it.

Ichigo didn't trust me…

It was late, but the thought of getting drunk was becoming significantly more appealing. I could just call in sick, say I got the flu. It wouldn't be a big deal, I'd done it before. I was such a big asset to the company they would never even think of firing me.

I finished my first bottle when the door to my bedroom creaked open.

I watched, partly apprehensive and partly rip-my-face-off-he-hates-me. Was he going to say he couldn't sleep here after all, that it turned out even the lock wasn't enough to help him feel safe?

Ichigo stood, part of his body hidden behind the doorframe. His shoulders were hunched and his orange bangs shielded his eyes. "U-Um…so-sorry to bother you…"

I had never seen Ichigo look so hesitant before, and seeing him like this was immensely alarming. And insanely discouraging.

The lock wasn't enough. He wanted to leave…

"I…I…" Ichigo was looking down, and he looked like he was going to cry. His hand was fisted in the hem of the shirt I gave him, and his knuckles were white from the pressure. "There's s-something wrong with me." I stared at him, and it felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. "I-I have a phobia…"

My eyes never left him, and I searched every inch of his tense features. That was not at all what I'd been expecting.

Brief thoughts drifted back to when I'd been sitting in that quaint little café with his sister Karin. She had said something about Ichigo having a phobia, but she never told me what phobia.

Maybe he was about to explain why he was scared of me, or scared to sleep near me. _"I have a phobia for disgusting perverts," he's going to say._

His body was quivering, and it took every ounce of my will power to not walk over and crush him into my chest. "I, I can't s-sleep alone."

I blinked. My eyes widened and my eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. The entire warring in my head was suddenly thrown off-kilter. Wait…what? I…

Did I fuck up?

As the gravity of his struggle hit me head-on it felt like I couldn't breathe. He couldn't _sleep_ by himself? Excluding my one-night stands that was something I did every night. How could he develop such a crippling phobia? How horribly did something like that affect him?

I stood then, determined to fix what I'd fucked up. I hadn't let him explain earlier. I had allowed myself to assume the worst and now Ichigo was suffering.

It killed me to think he'd actually attempted to sleep by himself because of me. I was so fucking stupid.

His whole body was trembling, and I took steady, easy steps in his direction. "Ichigo," I whispered, light as a feather. He turned to look up at me, and I rested a gentle hand on his cheek. "May I sleep with you tonight?"

Ichigo's eyes squeezed shut and he leaned his head into my hand. "P-Please."

I gave a sad smile. "Okay."

XxXxXxX

Ten minutes later and we were both under the covers of my king-sized bed. I wanted to pout because Ichigo had immediately placed himself on the very edge of one side, facing away from me, and he hasn't moved from that spot since.

I knew better than to overreact now, though. He wasn't distancing himself because he was scared I'd take advantage of him.

I'd seen his red cheeks before he turned away. He was embarrassed.

So I didn't complain. A phobia like that wasn't easy, and I wondered how he handled it on an ordinary night.

But how could he have developed a phobia like this in the first place? _Something_ had to have happened to introduce it.

"Grimmjow, I…"

My head swirled around to spot him in the darkness. He was still facing away, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry about this. I know it must be a-awkward for you." Ichigo chuckled nervously, though he obviously found nothing funny. "This wasn't what you signed up for when you asked if I wanted to stay."

I stared at his unmoving figure. He was lying on his side, his long body curled up to the point his head was almost touching his knees. It seemed amazingly flexible for a man. It was almost distracting to witness.

I gripped his arm, firmly but carefully. Then in one swift motion I pulled, rolling him onto his other side and crashing his body into mine.

In the darkness I couldn't see his reaction, but a gasp of surprise escaped his lips mid-movement.

I immediately drew him into a hug, ignoring his small bouts of protest as he beat against my chest. He screeched a low, "What the fuck?," and I only squeezed tighter, waiting until he gave up and stopped altogether.

He melted into my body then, and I absently wondered what blue and orange looked like on a canvas when they were mixed together.

I held my lips close to his ear. "There is no way, _no_ way that I could ever see you as a burden. I want to protect you, to take care of you…" I had already thought those words a thousand times before in my head, but saying them out loud I realized just how true they were. If this kid ever got hurt I would go on a killing rampage. I wouldn't allow the world amnesty. I'd make it burn to ashes for its deadly sin.

I placed a hand to the back of his hair, marveling in how soft it was. "I want to help you in any way I can. I want to, so…" I squeezed. "Never think of yourself as a burden."

Ichigo's head was resting in the crook of my neck, and he nuzzled his nose in farther. His arm wrapped around me, returning the hug. In my opinion, that was the best response I could have gotten.

By hugging me part of my shirt had ridden up, and his hand ended up splayed on the skin of my back. I shivered fiercely at his touch, my body doing the tango as his fingers moved back and forth. My back felt like it was on fire. If he didn't stop soon I was absolutely, without a doubt going to go insane.

Then I realized what it was his fingers were dancing along. They had found a scar, the scar tissue raised hideously and traveling the span of my lower back.

Ichigo seemed mesmerized by it, his touch following the same path over and over again. Why had he become fixated? Was he curious, angry?

"How did this happen?" he asked quietly.

In the darkness I smiled a sad smile. Sometimes I forgot about that scar, but every time I remembered or was reminded of it I grew oddly nostalgic. I wished I wouldn't.

I tried my best to keep the emotion out of my voice as I spoke. "My dad was an angry drunk. When I was sixteen one day he hit me with a broken bottle."

Ichigo's nails dug into the skin on my back, but it didn't hurt. His head was resting in the crook of my neck again. "I'm sorry," he said, and I was surprised to hear how much passion leaked from his words.

Because it was so easy to say "sorry." Goddamn, it was one of the easiest things in the world. But, to truly _mean_ it, and to speak it with utter sincerity…that was hard to come by.

And his sincerity wasn't lost on me.

I shook my head. "Don't be." And I meant it.

A moment passed. "Is he still…?"

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't have to. "No. He killed himself a few years ago."

I was seriously spilling everything to this kid. These were stories I never told people. Not friends, not relatives, _no one._

But…it wasn't really no one anymore, was it?

"And…And your mother?"

I smiled, my smile a happy one. "She's doing well. Re-married to a great guy and their three-year anniversary is coming up in a few months. They have a cute kid now, too."

He nodded into my neck, and I could feel the upward curve of his lips against my skin. It would've been enough for me to sprout wood if we hadn't been talking about my mother.

"I'm so glad to hear that."

Comfortable silence fell between us. I couldn't believe I had shared so much, yet at the same time I wasn't surprised at all. I had already determined this kid had rapidly become a big part of my life, but how big? Big enough for me to share _all_ of these secrets? Already?

If I was being honest with myself, I liked the idea of him knowing. It felt like one more thing that made us connected. I wanted him to ask me anything and everything under the sun. I wanted him to get to know the real me, just like I wanted to know the real him.

I must have been going crazy.

Did speaking of my past encourage Ichigo to share some of his? His sister had told me a lot, but I knew there was still so fucking much that remained in the dark. What happened during those two years he was kidnapped? Why was he taken to begin with? Did he genuinely start selling his body when he was sixteen so that he could get his sisters back?

I wanted to know more, _more._

I waited. I kept what was increasingly becoming the most important thing safe in my arms, and I waited. I yearned with all my heart to learn everything I could about Ichigo, but I also didn't want to pry. It was possible bringing up his past was like stepping on landmines, and I wanted him to be comfortable enough with me to be able to share the information freely.

Quiet snoring was now coming from the smaller body beside me, and suddenly comprehension sank in.

I swallowed my laughter, curling myself into him a little bit more. I'd call in sick for work tomorrow. I wanted more time to spend with Ichigo, that was for sure.

I rested my head against his, and not a minute later I was fast asleep beside him.

**XxXxXxX**

**Yay for finally finding out what Ichigo's phobia is!**

**I enjoy their cute dialogue. Still a bit more Ichigo angst to follow, but I promise Grimmie will be saving the day. ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Another chapter! As an end of 2020 celebration (fucking hell we deserve it) I'm hoping to get up another chapter soon! ^_^**

**Enjoy Chapter 9!**

**XxXxXxX**

I woke up to cold. Shivering, god-awful freezing temperatures cold.

Opening my eyes I saw I was the only one in the bed. Remembering last night that _shouldn't_ have been the case.

That woke me up like a bucket of ice water dumped onto my head. "Ichigo?" I called out loudly, swiftly rolling out of bed. The bathroom was empty, and I meandered into the living room to see it was empty as well. The connecting kitchen had no one to be found, and my office and guest rooms were uninhabited.

_Fuck!_

Did he leave? I checked the clock. It was fucking seven in the morning. Yet he was already gone?

I grit my teeth together, and I couldn't help how my heart clenched with sadness. I knew I was selfish, but this wasn't what I wanted. I'd wanted us to wake up still cuddled in bed together, then I could make him a big breakfast so delicious he'd come back just for the food.

Then I noticed a note on the kitchen counter, and I walked over and picked it up with delicate fingers.

_Thanks for everything, but I have to get going. Have a good day._

_-Ichigo (not an eff'ing kitten)_

I laughed, touching the note to my forehead. Well at least I knew he wasn't kidnapped. But what could he have to do so fucking early in the morning? He was running on barely any sleep at all.

Looking at the clock again I sighed.

Might as well go to work.

XxXxXxX

For the next six weeks Ichigo and I had developed a pattern. Whenever the kid had a client that lived in my apartment complex, Barragan or otherwise, he would come to me. It was usually past midnight, but even if I'd been sleeping I'd scramble to the door to usher him in.

Unfortunately or not, we hadn't cuddled again like we had that first night. He slept near the edge of the bed, and I reluctantly did the same. When I'd wake up in the morning he was nowhere to be seen.

It was absolutely, 100% depressing.

I was depressed, but I was also ecstatic. He initiated texts with me now. He finally _utilized_ my phone number. So when we weren't seeing each other we were likely texting each other. It was often random and about nothing important, but my heart would jump into my throat every time I saw his name scrolled across my screen.

I tapped my finger on the wooden desk in front of me, pondering. It wasn't anything miraculous, but I was positive Ichigo and I had gotten closer. I've known him for about two months now. We didn't talk about his past, or what he's endured over all these years, but I could tell he felt more comfortable around me. He smiled more, even laughed, and he seemed so much happier than when I'd first met him.

It was 9am and I was sitting at my office. Yesterday had been another one of those nights I went to bed with Ichigo only to wake up alone. It was exhausting and damaging to my psyche. I absently wondered if this was how my one-night stands felt when I left them in the middle of the night.

I quickly dismissed that thought, though. There were no emotions and no strings attached with my fuck buddies. This…this was different.

At least, I think it was…

I ignored those thoughts as I absently yawned into my hand. Damn, I was beat, and I was sure there were distinct bags under my eyes to prove it. Everyone avoided me, probably assuming I was hungover (a dumb assumption since I've never been drunk in my life), and I appreciated it.

I cursed under my breath as I eyed the man in front of me. Everyone except…one.

Nnoitra's feet were resting on the top of my office desk, and I no longer cared enough to correct him. Some were past being trained, and this guy was a fucking lost cause.

That ever-present sly grin was on his face. "You seem awfully tired, Grimmie. Were ya…busy last night?"

My eye twitched, and I didn't move my gaze away from my laptop screen. Only Nnoitra was capable of making my blood boil enough to risk it bursting out of its blood vessels.

"Nnoitra, if you're wondering if I had sex, no, I did not."

He made a long, stupidly exaggerated "boo" noise. "That's no fun at aallll."

I rolled my eyes, now going through various files. If he actually worked every time he said something snarky this place would have twice its revenue.

"Whatever." I hoped that ended the conversation. It was time for him to get back to his own desk. Just go _away._

But Nnoitra remained, and I wondered how I ended up with this fucker as my shadow in the first place.

"Ya need to have some fun in your life, Grimmie. Get yourself a beautiful girl, a beautiful guy, whatever floats your boat."

_Fucktard, you're the one that drowns my boat._

My phone vibrated, and I immediately fished the device out of my pocket. Ichigo had texted.

**"What are you up to?"**

I could feel my lips warp into a small smile, and I quickly texted back. **"At work. Talking with dumbass Nnoitra. You?"** I set the phone down, already impatient for a response.

"What ya smiling bout, Grimmie? That your lover texting ya?"

I nearly jumped out of my seat, having already forgotten Nnoitra was there. My cheeks were flaming red but I ignored it. "None of your business, fucker."

"Awww, no fun." I glanced at him, and his smirk was disgustingly vulgar. "I got a question for ya, Grimmie."

I wasn't in the mood for this. I growled, "What?"

"Ya got a crush on Ichigo?"

Time stood still. My mouth dropped open in blatant disbelief. How could he…how could he even _think_ to guess that? Nnoitra had only seen me with Ichigo at my stupid welcome party, and even then we'd been distant. We'd been nothing.

There was a knock on my office door, and I quickly voiced them entrance. I did _not_ need Nnoitra asking me more questions that I couldn't answer. More than that, I _definitely_ didn't want to get into the topic of my sexual orientation. Especially since I was so goddamn confused about it myself.

Hinamori was there, and she addressed Nnoitra. "Hi, Shuuhei was hoping you could help him with the spreadsheet for the budget. Do you have a minute?"

I scoffed. Did he have a minute? He was just sitting in my office doing fucking nothing, of _course_ he had a minute.

Nnoitra sighed, wailing in agony. "Seriousllyyy? Ugh. Fine."

I barely withheld singing praises as he sluggishly rolled out of the chair and trudged out of my office. He turned around and addressed me with a smirk. "We'll talk about this later, though. Who you fuck is important to me, too."

I withheld a groan of annoyance. Hinamori was blatantly curious, her gaze swiveling between me and Nnoitra. Her cheeks were red, and the small bag of cookies she was holding were in plain sight.

Oh fuck. Not again.

She surprisingly read the situation well, though. She subtly maneuvered the cookies behind her back, waving at me sheepishly. "Sorry for interrupting, Mr. Jaegerjaques. Have a great morning!"

I merely nodded. Her cheeks were two plump tomatoes, and she hurriedly escaped my office, nearly slamming the door behind her.

I sighed in relief, glad to have the office to myself again. My phone had bleeped sometime during my conversation with Nnoitra, and I eagerly opened the message.

It was from Ichigo, of course. **"The usual."**

I stared at the screen, reading between the lines. I was trying to decide how to respond when he sent another text. **"Is your hair naturally blue?"**

I smiled at that. I'd gotten used to random questions like this. Sometimes he asked me what my favorite food was, what I did in my free time, random shit like that. I loved how he wanted to get to know me better.

**"It is, haha. As if I'd take the time to dye my damn hair."** I started getting self-conscious then. Did he ask that for a reason? Maybe he had an ulterior motive with the question.

I typed hastily. **"Is my hair weird to you?"** I didn't notice I was holding my breath for a response.

The response came a few seconds later. **"No, I like it."**

I exhaled heavily, relief flooding through me. I leaned forward and my forehead rested against my laptop. I'd never given a shit before if someone liked or disliked my hair. But Ichigo…I'd really hoped that he liked it. How fucking weird was that?

My phone beeped again, which surprised me. I sat up, grabbing the device to read the message.

"Client now. I'll talk to you later."

I squeezed my phone viciously in my fist, teeth grit and knuckles white. Of course, a _client._ I threw my phone onto the desk with a heavy thud. Fine, abandon me for a fucking client. Fine.

I tried to continue my work. 5 minutes passed, 10, now 20. I got distracted again.

What was he doing right now? Was he still with the client? Was he enjoying it? Did he like a certain position over another?

Oh gods. I rubbed a hand over my face in defeat. One thing since meeting Ichigo that I _never_ thought I'd _ever_ do was go to a gay porn site. But about two weeks ago I had done the unthinkable, and I watched scene after scene demonstrate numerous, _numerous_ positions.

It was less arousing and more educational. The only male I _think_ I'm attracted to like that is Ichigo, so watching these little shits on-screen didn't really do anything for me.

But still I watched.

My mind was haunted by Ichigo. 80 minutes and he still hasn't texted. _Surely_ he was almost done now. How much stamina did this client have? It _was_ just one client, right? _Right?!_

Would he text when he finished? His previous message had been vague, he may not text until tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that.

Goddamn it, I didn't _want_ to wait that long.

I picked up my phone to type him a text when it beeped, vibrating in my hand.

"Have you had sex with a man before?"

My eyes were like bug eyes glued to the screen. I re-read the text four more times. What?! 

I could feel my cheeks absolutely scorched with blood. With all the cute random questions he's asked, he's never asked anything so personal, at least nothing like this. He's asked about my parents, my mother's husband, but never anything... _sexual._

My mind was racing. Did his question mean anything, or was it simple curiosity? Either way I wanted to be honest. I wanted to know everything about him, and I wanted him to feel the same way. I _liked_ that he took an interest in me.

I contemplated how to respond. "No…Have you had sex with a woman?"

"I have not."

I stared at my phone. Should I say something more? Did he want to move on from this conversation? What do I do, what the fuck do I _do?_

Ichigo answered that question for me as he sent another text. **"What's it like?"**

I leaned back in my office chair, thinking. What was it like? I haven't had sex in...damn, it felt like forever. Did I miss driving hard into a woman? Did I miss eating pussy and fondling tits? Had it ever _truly_ been anything worthwhile?

I thought back on my fling with Mindy. Everything about her had been so fake. When I thought about it _most_ of my women were like that. Blond, big-titted, and easy. My attraction to Ichigo was like a complete 180. The sharp eyes, sarcastic wit. The hardened muscles barely hidden beneath a hoodie and worn jeans. The contrast almost blew my mind.

I respond honestly. **"It's okay. Nothing amazing. Would probably help if I had feelings for the person." I contemplated Mindy and how loose her vagina had been. "Would also help if I hadn't always gone for huge sluts."**

It almost felt like an eternity before I got a response back, and it made me wonder what was going on. I'd even gotten back to work when my phone finally dinged.

I scrambled to pick up the device and opened the text.

Ichigo's message popped up. **"Haha. Sorry to hear. Don't recommend you trying it with me either, then."**

I re-read the text. I swallowed, and I could feel a drop of sweat roll down my temple.

His "haha" didn't fool me. I'd fucked up and unknowingly hurt his feelings. He thought he was a slut. He thought he was gross and just like the women I'd been speaking of.

I hated myself. I typed at lightning speed. **"Ichigo, you're not a slut. Not even close."**

Three minutes passed before my phone bleeped. **"If you had seen the position I was in two hours ago you wouldn't be saying that."**

Wait, what? Position? Like physical position? Like _sexual position?_

I was sweating profusely, and I loosened the tie around my neck. Images of what Ichigo could have been doing popped into my mind. _Goddamn it, Grimmjow, get yourself together._ I watched a bunch of gay porn and nothing, but a single thought of Ichigo doing something naughty and suddenly my penis is doing the tango in my pants? Childish.

I typed. **"The fact remains, you're not a slut. In fact you're the opposite. You're my cute little kitten."**

Fuck, was I flirting with this kid? I hope that text didn't make him feel uncomfortable. Is it possible for me to delete it? No, no, I've already sent it so it's impossible. Goddamn it.

Another minute passed before a beep went off. I quickly opened the text.

**"Lol asshole."**

I smiled fondly at the screen. I hope he had genuinely laughed. I would've accepted even a small, happy smile. Any day he works is a rough day, so if I could improve it just a _little…_

My phone beeped again. **"Client again. Sorry, talk to you later."**

I squeezed the device hard as my hand formed into a fist. My eyes smoldered with fiery rage.

Fucking fucking _fuck!_

XxXxXxX

The rest of the day passed with monotony, and so did the next. Every day for the rest of the week felt the goddamn same. I hadn't seen Ichigo again since that time at my apartment, and I was starting to ache for him. I'd become so obsessed it was embarrassing.

Thursday night after work and I decided to be proactive in my entertainment. I went to the local bar The Bag. At this point I wasn't especially "new" to the city anymore, and I'd been here several times now, either to look for Ichigo or just hang out. Initially I'd come here to pick up women, but somehow it gradually changed into just hanging out and having a beer. I just wasn't interested in random sex anymore.

And let me tell you _that_ was the surprise of a fucking lifetime.

I was sitting on a stool at the bar, enjoying the feel of alcohol gliding down my throat. Beer, it was a marvelous thing.

One of the fun things about going to bars was listening to the ridiculous conversations drunk people had. With a shitty alcoholic dad I didn't allow myself to get drunk. It sounded stupid, but I was honest-to-god scared. What if I was like him? What if it made me become abusive? What if I got addicted?

Ichigo's face flashed through my mind. I didn't want to hurt the people I cared about, so I didn't even chance it.

Nevertheless, while I didn't get drunk I could easily appreciate _other_ people getting drunk. It was a way to pass the time, and also a great way to laugh at some other fucker's stupidity.

A sluttily-dressed woman came to sit on the stool beside me, her body facing in my direction. I could tell she was waiting for some form of recognition, and I didn't give it to her. I just sat there, staring straight ahead and sipping on my beer.

She was persistent. "Hey hottie," she cooed. Her breath reeked of alcohol.

I pulled my wallet from my pants pocket, and her eyes were instantly glued to it. Did she think I was going to buy her a drink?

Lol.

I pulled out a dollar, placing it on the tabletop and sliding it over to her. "Buy yourself a mint. Your breath is shit."

I didn't bother to watch her reaction. I merely stood from my place at the bar and went somewhere else.

People were so obnoxious.

I stopped in my tracks, and I suddenly listened as a table beside me talked about a "prostitute." Could they be talking about Ichigo?

The likelihood was low, but I still found myself tuning in to their conversation.

"He's a great catch. He's been in the prostitution business for years so he definitely knows what he's doing."

Another, smaller man spoke. The man seemed almost excited to contribute. " Yeah, definitely. I heard he got really fucked up as a kid, too—."

The large man beside him interrupted, a huge, sly grin marking his features. "He was born to suck cock. He knows that's the only talent he's got." He cackled, and they all unanimously joined him. Each and every one of them disgusted me, and I so badly wanted to intervene.

But I didn't. Whether that was selfish of me or not, I didn't. There was no guarantee they were talking about Ichigo, and Ichigo was the only prostitute I cared about.

It angered me, though. Is that how everyone talks about prostitutes?

Listening to that group of men was getting me riled up. I had to get out of here before I really let loose. I absently wondered if I would've been better off with the drunken slutty woman.

I went to find a more acceptable location when I heard a voice that made my blood run cold.

"Grimmie! Grimmie, over here!"

I stopped moving, and I forced myself to take deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

I definitely would've been better off with the drunken slutty woman.

I turned to see exactly the person I was expecting, and also one I was absolutely not.

Nnoitra and Ichigo were standing side-by-side, Nnoitra's arm wrapped possessively around the other's waist. I couldn't help the near-silent growl that emitted from my mouth but, thanks to the loud chatter and blasting music, it went unheard.

…I think.

Ichigo had yet to make eye contact with me, and he kept his bangs fully covering his eyes. I hated to think he was embarrassed, or ashamed. Goddamn it.

"'Sup Grimmie, enjoying the bar scene? Found yourself someone to fuck yet?"

I didn't dignify his question with a response and rolled right over it. "Nnoitra, have you purchased Ichigo for the night?"

Nnoitra's mouth widened into a feral grin. "Ya bet. Got him until midnight."

I nodded, turning to Ichigo to scrutinize him. I still couldn't see his eyes, but his mouth was formed into a thin line. His lips were so plump, so thick. The grim expression he had right now didn't do them justice.

But today was a Thursday. Based on the last two weeks Ichigo has yet to visit me on a Thursday, which meant he didn't have any clients at my apartment complex that day.

I stuck my hand in my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I called to Ichigo by name, and his head whipped up. His piercing chocolate and caramel eyes met mine, and in that moment there was some unspeakable, incomprehensible connection. I was so glad to see him again.

But seeing him with Nnoitra again? Fuck. And Nnoitra lived pretty far away from my place, right? In one of our many conversations I remember him talking about it. Nnoitra was decently well-off, but less so than me. I lived in the wealthier area of the city.

I pulled two hundred dollar bills from my wallet, and I handed them to Ichigo. "After midnight I want you to come to my place."

There was tense silence, and then Nnoitra suddenly came to life. He howled and laughed and cackled, evidently pleased I'd finally "bitten the bullet" to "try out the sex god." I drowned out Nnoitra as best I could, looking into Ichigo's eyes and embracing everything they had to show me.

He looked…disappointed.

Ichigo nodded, almost as if resigned to his fate as he shoved the money into his pocket. He then grabbed Nnoitra's arm and yanked him away from me, toward the exit. Was Ichigo that disgusted? That he wanted to get away from me as soon as possible?

Nnoitra sobered up fast, and he barely glanced back at me as they walked away. At this point I was surprised he even remembered I was there. Lust overcame his features at a rapid rate, and he seemed quite excited to see Ichigo take such an initiative.

The two left, and I was no longer in the mood to stay. The thought of Nnoitra and Ichigo fooling around together under the sheets made me want vomit, die, kill someone, or all of the above, and I decided The Bag was no longer a safe environment for me.

I departed, my skin on fire and entire body shaking. I'd head back to the apartment and wait for Ichigo, hoping to god I hadn't just fucked up.

XxXxXxX

12:06am and I was nervous as fuck. How should I react when I see him? Happy? Subdued? Casual?

I didn't want to come off as too eager, but I also didn't want to seem apathetic, especially when I was _far_ from fucking apathetic.

Should I change clothes? I was still in my nice shirt and black slacks from work. Did that seem too formal? Would I come off as too much?

It almost felt like I was preparing for my date to arrive, and that was the most ridiculous thought ever. I'd never _gone_ on a date before, not once (and when I had had breakfast with Ichigo that was purely platonic. I was still in horrible denial). So how would I know what it felt like?

I was still in my nice clothes when there was an impatient knock on the door.

Not to be anal, but this knock was nothing like the knocks he's done in the recent past. His other knocks were quiet, hesitant.

I took a deep breath, actually waiting before answering the door this time. Fuck, I was so nervous. I cleaned up the living area earlier—evidently the only incentive to make me clean my apartment was Ichigo—, and after that all I did was pace right beside the door.

I'd been standing by the door for twenty minutes, but he sure as hell didn't need to know that.

I opened the door to find an irked Ichigo at my doorstep.

I swallowed, suddenly a lump in my throat. Did Nnoitra do something?

That _fucker,_ I was going to _kill_ him.

Ichigo had already stepped into the apartment, passing the kitchen and entering the living room. He still hasn't said anything.

I bided my time. I didn't want to make anything more awkward by doing something hasty. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Can I offer you something to drink? Water, tea, cok—."

"Where do you want me?" Ichigo responded curtly, impatience leaking through every word. He had an… _attitude_ tonight. I didn't know what to do.

I turned to look at him. "What?"

Ichigo barred his teeth, but seemed to be doing exceptionally well at restraining his full anger. "Bed, couch, table. Where do you want me?" He pulled the wad of money I gave him earlier out of his pocket. He threw it onto the table. "This'll get you four hours worth. I don't do bondage, and I don't kiss."

The pieces of the puzzle came together, and I finally understood.

Damn…I fucked up bad.

My eyes wide, I slowly closed the fridge, as if slowing my movements would also slow his anger. I had forgotten I had given him that money. Not long ago I had told him I would never buy him, that I saw him as my equal.

It hadn't been my intention to give the illusion of the exact opposite.

I swallowed, hoping I could clear these muddy, shitty waters. "Did you take the taxi?"

Now it was his turn to have a look of perplexity. "…What?"

His anger was temporarily subdued, and that meant I was on the right track. I gave him a water bottle I had pulled out, and he took it with a cautious hand. "Nnoitra lives far away. I knew you'd have to take the taxi to get here." I pointed to the wad of cash still in his hand. "That's taxi money. Please keep the change."

Ichigo was like a statue of ice, staring at me with still, wide eyes. His confusion was infinite, and with good reason. At The Bag I hadn't been thinking; I just acted on impulse. I gave him the impression I wanted to _buy_ him, and that had upset him.

At least now I had time to right my wrong.

"So…So…" Ichigo had left his near comatose state, his gaze now drifting to the money in his hand. "This isn't money to…buy me?" He looked to me for verification.

With a sad smile I shook my head. "No, it's not." I could feel blood rush to my cheeks, and I looked away, hands clenched into fists inside my pockets. "I just…I just wanted to give you a reason to visit me."

Because I'd known Ichigo didn't have clients at my apartment complex on Thursdays. But today was Thursday, and I wanted to see Ichigo today.

Gods, I was incredibly selfish. I made Ichigo come all the way over here, in the middle of the fucking night, just because I wanted to see him. What if he had other things to do? Maybe he wanted to actually do something _fun._

And of course, he had little sisters to think about. Wow I was so selfish. I had taken him away from his sisters.

After a long agonizing moment of shame and self-loathing I bit the bullet. I snuck a peek at his expression. Surprise was at the forefront, as I'd kind of anticipated, but also…happiness? What? Was he that glad I wasn't buying him? Did he not hate me for persuading him to come over here?

Maybe there was a god, after all.

Ichigo smiled a small smile. He still didn't smile often, but I felt like there's been a lot of progress. The blankness of his façade has been cracking, and little by little I've been allowed glimpses of his true emotions.

I mean fuck, every smile that lit across his face because of _me_ made my heart soar with infinite triumph. I couldn't get enough of it.

He gazed at me curiously. "Alright. What do you want to do?"

It was lame, but I'd actually given it some thought. Watching TV was out of the question; it would mean I looked at a television screen instead of Ichigo. I wasn't the type of person to have board games or some shit strewn about my apartment, and I had zero entertainment items. I was a pretty boring fucker.

I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. "What about Truth or Dare?"

He blinked, surprised at my suggestion. I was genuinely concerned I was going to get shot down.

But he had this expression on his face, I didn't know how to explain it. He had a little sideways smile, the slightest of arches on his right eyebrow, and a small tilt of his head. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

The expression didn't change as he spoke. "You know…you're a pretty weird guy."

I felt my shoulders slump the slightest bit. Ah. So he didn't want to play?

"Okay."

My head shot up. "What?"

Ichigo walked farther into the apartment and took a seat on the couch. "Let’s play."

I was only stunned for a moment before I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. "Alright."

And so we played.

**XxXxXxX**

**Eight chapters in and they're STILL not a couple. Such madness.**

**However, let it be known next chapter gets mildly adorable. Please look forward to it. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**This is days late and I am so, so sorry. The New Years' festivities went in a direction I did not expect. A one-night vacation turned into 5, so I am very sorry. **

**On the plus side, longest chapter to date. A lil GrimmIchi also finally happens. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**XxXxXxX**

We chose really simple things to begin with. For the first few turns Ichigo seemed hesitant about picking "dare," but also seemed kind of nervous about what truths I could pick. I wanted to tell him to not be so tense. I wasn't going to pick anything _serious_ to talk about. When Ichigo told me about his past or his life I didn't want it to be because of some fucking game.

What broke the ice was the first dare I gave Ichigo. He had to drink chocolate milk out of a bowl without using his hands. He gave me an evil eye as I smirked ruthlessly before he begrudgingly agreed to accept the challenge. He alternated between slurping at it by puckering his thick lips, or merely licking at it with his tongue. I doubt he realized how fucking sexy he was being, but nonetheless it created a clear bulge in the front of my pants that I needed to cover up with a pillow.

After he determined I wouldn't ask anything too personal, or dare anything too provocative, he loosened up a lot. We were both genuinely having a lot of fun.

"Truth or dare?"

It was his turn to pick. "Dare."

I'd already had this one stashed in my mental inventory of dumb-as-fuck-but-still-funny dares, so I whipped it out and presented it. "I dare you to name all seven of Snow White's dwarves. Whichever ones you don't recite I write on your arms."

Initially I had contemplated threatening to write it on his face, but then I realized his face was perfect. I didn't dare mar it with ink.

I swear the likelihood of me being gay becomes higher every second of my fucking existence.

…Assuming I'm not already gay.

_Stop! Not the time for this!_

I watched Ichigo as he just blinked at me. "…I have to name what?"

I blinked right back at him. "Snow White…the seven dwarves…" His expression didn't change, and I raised an eyebrow. "That's not ringing a bell?"

Ichigo shook his head. "If this is a show or movie or something I don't really watch anything."

I just stared at him, and my mouth was probably hanging in disbelief. "But Snow White is a _classic._ Even _I_ watched that stupid damn movie when I was a kid."

Not by choice, of course. Damn my mother and her undying obsession with Disney.

Ichigo shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry. Guess I just wasn't into that stuff."

I grabbed a pen off the table. "Whelp, that just means I get to write all the dwarves' names on you."

I took his arm into my hand and wrote down the first ones that came to mind. I was writing on his inner forearm, and my hand was resting in his palm. The glide of my pen along his veins and fine skin was exhilarating.

I could feel Ichigo's suspicious gaze on me, and after a moment he groaned. "Ugh. You're having too much fun with this."

I snickered. He was craning his neck to see what the names were.

"Sneezy? There's a dwarf named _Sneezy?"_

I choked on a laugh. "Yep."

I continued writing, and Ichigo continued watching my progress. He looked at his own arm in astonishment "Dop—You're telling me there's a dwarf named _Dopey?_ Now you're just making this up."

This time my laughter couldn't be smothered, and I had to hold onto my abdomen so organs didn't burst out of my body.

"Swear I'm not making this up."

"Liar."

"I'm not."

I was now finished, and I put the pen back on the table. Ichigo crossed his now ink-riddled arms over his chest. "Humph."

I stuck my tongue out between my teeth, both in mockery and just general amusement. He was damn cute.

I was going to tack a "No homo" to the end of that, but…well…nevermind.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Fine, you win. Now truth or dare?"

After a moment I decided. "Dare."

He climbed over me on the couch to reach for something from the end table, and I almost died from the close proximity. The smell of his fruity hair, the muscular biceps two inches from my face, the sleek cut of his neck that was just begging for me to sink my teeth in it…

I suddenly remembered what Nnoitra had told me before. Ichigo had a thing for his neck…it was really sensitive.

And it was right _there…_

Ichigo pulled away, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Another second and I would've done something bad. Really bad.

Current status: 92% homosexual.

Ichigo had retrieved the home telephone from the receiver on the table, and I resituated to cover my boner.

He handed me the phone. "Make a prank call."

He seemed oddly excited. His expression reminded me of when you finally get to witness something you've heard about for years, but never got to experience it until now.

So he's never seen a prank call before?

I smirked. I'll show him how it's done.

I dialed *67 then entered a random phone number. I put the phone on speaker so Ichigo could listen in, and we waited for someone to pick up.

After a moment there was an answer…"Do you realize what fucking time it is?"

The voice came from some kid, a teenager probably. His voice was slurred, and I'd probably woken him up. Good.

I made my voice professional and stiff. "Hi, sir, I apologize for calling at this late hour. My name's Mark and I'm calling as a representative for PornHub. com."

Ichigo barely stifled a giggle, and I could almost see this random kid's embarrassed, blushing face. His once sleep-riddled voice was now wide awake. "Wh- _What?"_

"Yes sir, I'm calling to confirm your purchase of the two blondes Megan and Double-D Diana you requested."

There was a spastic rustle of sheets, and his voice sounded desperate and alarmed. " _What?_ I didn't order anybody. I haven't bought anything, this must be some mistake!"

"Are you implying you don't use our website?"

Silence, then an awkward, "W-Well n-no. I _do_ u-use it, a a l-lot, but I ha-haven't _bought_ anyone."

I looked at Ichigo to see him holding a tight hand over his mouth. His cheeks were dimpling and his eyes crescent-moon shaped. He was struggling not to laugh, but I honestly wanted to hear him. _I don't care if it messes up the prank call. Please, just_ laugh.

I continued. "Sir, I'd just like to verify your purchase of the two women. My records show you requested this morning from 3am to 6am."

I could hear the boy shaking into the phone, probably quivering like a fucking leaf. "W-W-What? Those women can't come to my home. My _parents_ are here!"

Fuck, Ichigo's beauty was so distracting. He had one hand on his mouth and one on his belly, and I couldn't look away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir, with your purchase a threesome is the most you are allowed. However, if you'd be interested in the premium bundle your parents can certainly—"

"NO!" The voice was a frantic yell into the phone. "My parents have nothing to do with this. Please, whatever I bought I just want a refund. Don't send those women here. A-Anywhere else is f-fine, just please…"

He was beyond desperate. It was hilarious.

"Jacob, what's going on?"

"Who are you talking to at this hour?"

The kid I was speaking with immediately halted his words. The two new voices were an older man and woman.

Ahh. He had woken his parents. Lol.

"N-Nothing. J-Just talking to a f-friend." His voice was like a high-pitched squeak.

I also noticed he was harder to hear now. Maybe he placed the phone away from his ear when he was talking to his parents?

I spoke louder into the telephone. "Sir, can you please confirm that you requested spanking, oral sex, and role-playing with your purchase?"

Ichigo was curled up on the floor. He had stepped away from me so his fits of laughter couldn't be heard through the speaker, and his cheeks had turned red from exertion. He looked so, so beautiful. I wanted to kiss his colored cheeks. I wanted to kiss his plump, moist lips. I wanted to kiss his neck a thousand times. I wanted to kiss every inch of his body until he was melting under me and all the while moaning my name.

Annddd these thoughts needed to stop _right_ now.

I resituated, subtly adjusting myself through my pants. Fuck, I was hard again.

There had been deadly silence on the other line for several seconds, and suddenly there was an explosion of noise.

"Jacob Matthew Smithson, what did we tell you about inappropriate websites? What were you _thinking?"_

"You are grounded for a year, young man. A _year."_

"That's it, you're getting counseling. Enough is enough."

"This coming Sunday you're marching yourself over to church—."

I couldn't contain my amusement anymore. I hung up the phone, putting the device back on the receiver and allowing my laughter to erupt.

Ichigo stopped trying to contain his laughter, and he was nearly dying on the floor. This was possibly the happiest I've ever seen him, and that made me so happy.

I merely watched him in amazement until the laughs and giggles and tears died down.

"Oh wow, that was hilarious," he said, his voice slightly coarse from all the laughter. He got up, crawling on his hands and knees back toward the couch. He didn't sit on the couch; he merely rested his head on the cushion beside me, tears traveling over his cute nose.

My smirk turned into a genuine smile. I ruffled his hair with my hand, and I probably lingered more than was appropriate. "Enjoyed that, did ya kitten?"

Ichigo nodded into the couch, smiling wide. Bouts of giggling still burst from him. "Y-Yeah, I did."

My fingers found their way back to his hair without my permission. "Good…" I felt so content in this moment. I was so fucking happy.

Ichigo's laughs had died down, but a small smile lingered. As I continued massaging his hair, he just laid there, and part of me expecting a purring noise to emit from his lips.

His hair is exactly as soft as I thought it’d be too. It’s addictive and makes my chest warm and my stomach fill with butterflies I never asked to join the fucked-up circus that is my life.

I’m playing with his hair too long though. Because soon a conflicted expression appears on his facial features. Like maybe he was enjoying it, but he wasn't sure if he should be? Was I being too intimate? Was I flirting too much?

It made sense. Just a few hours ago he'd been performing his job, he'd been having sex for money. Maybe this felt too real for him.

I couldn't help but be disappointed, but I also acknowledged this moment as crazy as fuck. I still couldn't believe it. Here I was, enjoying this moment, with a _guy._

Ichigo lifted his head, and I reluctantly, so damn reluctantly, removed my hand. He sat back on the couch, and his excitement gradually came back to him.

"Let's keep going," he said, his words barely tinged with eagerness.

I grinned. Maybe this kid had an inner child after all?

"Okay. Truth or dare?"

It was his turn to pick. "Truth."

I pondered what I wanted to ask. There were so many things I've wanted to know about him, but there was a time and place for everything. "Tell me more about your sisters."

From what I could tell Ichigo loved talking about his baby sisters. His face always lit up just a little bit, and I could tell he was fiercely protective.

As I anticipated, his demeanor got a little lighter as he spoke. "Karin is the fiery twin. She's athletic and sarcastic and hard-headed." He added with a laugh, "And she loves arguing because she's damn good at it."

I smiled at his happiness. He was like a bright light, and I just fed off his waves of electricity.

The kid continued. "Yuzu is the softer, quieter one. She's been the cook in the family ever since Mom passed away. She's loving, so selfless, and always tries to make everyone happy."

Ichigo sounded like an interesting mix between his sisters. He was fierce like Karin, but so fucking selfless it wasn't even funny.

Unknowing of my train of thought he ended his descriptions, and he looked to me. "Now, truth or dare?"

I thought about it. "Dare."

Ichigo eyed me, but his expression seemed far away. The happiness from the previous conversation didn't translate into this one, and he looked suddenly serious. Like he was looking at me, but he really wasn't. His gaze seemed oddly preoccupied.

"Take off your shirt."

I stared at Ichigo, certain I'd misunderstood. He didn't even bat an eyelash, merely waiting for me to obey the command.

My heart skipped several beats, and I thought I was about to go into cardiac arrest. What was happening? His expression was still so haunted and mysterious. I didn't know what to think about it.

I unbuttoned my shirt, tossing it to the side. I watched as Ichigo's eyes raked over me. He held up his pointer finger and twirled it, ordering me to turn around. I did as I was told, wishing I could still watch him as I faced the wall.

Then I felt fiery warmth touch my lower back. His fingers were grazing along my skin, and I fought the violent shiver that threatened to shoot down my spine and through my entire body.

"It was too dark then. I hadn't been able to see it…" His voice seemed faraway. He was talking about my scar.

"It…it's not that big of a deal." I sounded like a queer, but god I was having trouble concentrating. The way he was touching me was so fucking distracting.

I heard the rustle of material as Ichigo resituated. I didn't look behind me, just waiting for whatever he was going to do next.

Warmth suddenly burst through my back again, but it was more concentrated, more intense. It was like a single scalding ember on my back, a slow burn torturing my body.

But this torture…it was good torture.

I turned to see what the cause of this amazing sensation was. Ichigo was bent over at the waist, his lips pressed tenderly against the middle of my scar.

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. I could not believe this was happening right now. All I could do was stare in awe and fight to keep consciousness.

After another moment he pulled away, but the warmth on my back didn't leave until hours after. I didn't turn back around to face him, still frozen in amazement, and he leaned forward and rested his chin on my bare shoulder. His voice was barely above a whisper. "It's a big deal to me."

Why…Why did this kid care so much about me? It was just one scar. Yeah, I had a shitty dad, but I also had a great mother, a great mother that was _alive._

The same couldn't be said for Ichigo.

Sometimes I felt like he saw the worst in himself. Like he thought his suffering wasn't worth anything, like it didn't matter, like no one would care. It wasn't fair to him at all, and I hated to see him think that way.

I wished he could see himself through my eyes.

"Ask me," he said after moments of silence.

I smiled the smallest of smiles. If he wanted to keep playing, we'd keep playing. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

I deliberated with a finger to my chin. Then I fought the urge to grin mischievously.

An idea came to mind, and I stood from the couch. I went into my office room to grab something, and when that was done I went to my bedroom, grabbing another item.

When I came back I was holding a tiny piece of tape and a work tie. Ichigo was watching with inquisitive, probing puppy dog eyes.

I held up the tie. "You're going to be blindfolded for this exercise." I handed it to him and he took it, eyes still solely on me. I held up the small tape. "I'm going to put this piece of tape somewhere on my body—anywhere waist up—, and you have to find it."

I watched Ichigo's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His cheeks were tinted red, and his eyes were barely dilated.

"Alright," he said breathily. He tied the tie over his eyes, securing it in the back. I placed the tape on me. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded, and I sounded just as raspy as he did.

I could tell he had no idea where to start. He seemed like such a systematic person, his hands currently hanging in midair. I sat crisscrossed on the sofa facing him, and I grabbed his wrist. I gently led it to my body. "This is my shoulder."

He nodded, squeezing. "Thanks."

He began with my arms. His hands scoured every inch, and I watched as he continuously bit his lip in concentration. It wasn't a big piece of tape by any means, and I knew he didn't want to lose.

"Do you work out?" he asked as he felt the bulge of my biceps.

"Sometimes," I supplied. It wasn't really something fun for me to do. I usually just did it when I was stressed or needed something to beat the shit out of.

"You're fucking huge," he muttered.

I wanted to make a penis joke, but I barely refrained. I didn't want to make Ichigo uncomfortable. Also, if I started talking about my penis it would inevitably get excited.

It was an annoying little fucker.

Oblivious to my train of thought, Ichigo searched each of my hands individually. His fingers looped through the webbing of my own and, briefly, he held his hand in mine.

It was a great feeling.

He paused, almost as if to savor it. Then he moved on, searching for my waistline. He brought his hands down, down, down, until they finally found the edge of my belt. Everywhere he touched he left a trail of searing fire.

The process continued, and it was when he reached my nipples that a whole new level of eroticism was achieved.

Did he even realize what he was doing to me?

Both of his fingers were stimulating my nipples, and I'm sure he realized soon that he was playing with them way too long for this to be part of the game. His thumbs ran over them, teasing the nubs, and I bit my bottom lip hard to contain my moan.

Even without seeing Ichigo's eyes his expression looked awfully sly as he leaned forward. "I have to be thorough," he muttered as he took one of my nipples into his mouth. The moist cavern was like a sanctuary for my body, and this time a loud moan escaped without my knowledge. He sucked on one nipple while a hand stimulated the other. His other hand traveled up and down my spine, occasionally teasing the skin beneath my waistline.

This kid…oh fuck, this kid. He was going to be the death of me.

When I'd thought through this dare in my head I hadn't realized it'd be this damn sensual. But, playing this game with someone like Ichigo, I should've known better. He could make anything fucking hot.

I wasn't playing the game anymore. I wanted Ichigo's lips on my own, I needed them.

"Ichigo…" I uttered breathlessly, and I could barely contain a groan as he suddenly started suckling harder.

Oh god. I _had_ to stop him. I had to before my brain shut down or I fucking came in my pants.

I put a finger to his chin, desperately but gently pulling him up from my chest. "Please…" I didn't know what I wanted to say, but my vocal cords were dead. My mouth wasn't working, my body wasn't working. I was melting beneath the fire that was Ichigo, and I was completely at his mercy.

He seemed to somehow understand my plea—even when I didn't understand it myself— and with uncertain hands he searched for my face. He rested his hands on my cheeks, and I felt as he thumbed at a particular spot on my right cheek.

Peeling the tape off, he immediately discarded it and placed it out of sight. I hummed in satisfaction. He wasn't playing the game either.

The moment I had been waiting for for so long was about to finally, fucking _finally_ come true. How long have I obsessed over him? How long have I been aching for those plump pink lips? The gay porn I had watched didn't even come _close_ to doing Ichigo justice.

He carefully moved to straddle my hips, and that's when part of me revived and started working again. I placed my hands on his lower back, my fingers dipping under his shirt to feel the smooth skin. He gasped, and I could feel his air on my face. Fuck, he was so _close._

Ichigo's hands tenderly cupped my face, and he leaned closer.

Our lips were a mere inch apart when I wanted to kill myself.

A shrill ring broke through the silence, and the imaginary barrier we had put around ourselves effectively shattered.

Ichigo jumped from his spot, and he would've fell backwards onto the table if I hadn't caught him. When he was stable he immediately got out of my grasp, standing and pulling the tie off his eyes. His cheeks were bright red, and he was distinctly out of breath. In our movements some of the black marker on his arms had smeared, and if my brain wasn’t so fucking jumbled and confused it’d be comical.

The piercing ring continued a few more seconds before going to voicemail. _Great, leave your fucking message then go the_ fuck _away._

We both listened as the message machine spoke. "Grimmjoowww."

Oh fuck. I knew this voice.

Mindy the slutbag.

The woman's voice on the other end was slurred, and she sounded drunk off her ass. "My pussy r-really needs ya, Grimmjow, I'm so fuckin' wet. I-I'm on m' way to ya now. B-Be ready for an a-a-amazin' fuck."

She hung up. Mindy had always been such a slut, especially when she was drunk, and I had no doubt that that was why she'd called.

The silence that permeated through the room after she hung up was unnerving. I had my head in my hands. I couldn't even face Ichigo, I was so scared this had fucked everything up. She used to be my go-to booty call, but I hadn't needed her in literally forever. My gaze only ever rested on Ichigo.

But he didn't know that, did he?

God. Her timing was the fucking _worst._

Ichigo finally spoke. "I should go." His voice was emotionless, and he didn't look my way as he turned and headed to the door.

I reached a hand out, but it felt like it was lightyears away. "W-Wait!"

Ichigo did, but I could tell he was reluctant. It looked like he wanted to leave, to leave and never come back.

"Sh-She means nothing. She means absolutely nothing. Please…" Here I was, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, pleading for the second time today. "Please don't go."

He turned around, no longer facing the exit, and I nearly cried my thanks to the heavens.

"That woman said she was on her way up." Ichigo's gaze was on the wall. "She wants to have sex with you. Odd as it may seem, I don't want to _be_ here when you do."

He moved to turn back around, and I jumped up from my seat on the couch, passionate. "I'm _not_ having sex with her." I walked toward Ichigo. "I don't want that stupid bitch. I-I know this will sound really weird, but…" God, I just wanted Ichigo to _look at me._ His gaze was so defeated. I wanted to make it go away. "The way I feel for you…it's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Ichigo stared at me, scrutinizing my expression. "You're on the tabloids a lot. Do you know what they are almost always about?"

I blinked, troubled with where this could be going. I never read those damn things, but I had a good idea. I swallowed anxiously. "No…what?"

His eyes were hard and immoveable. "It's about what women you had sex with that week." He scoffed, a dark, angry laugh emitting. "Yuzu looks up to you so much. I always hid them so her hero would remain untainted." He fully turned to look at me now, and his dark amusement was long gone. "Grimmjow, you're not gay; you don't like me. You're just confused."

My eyes hardened, and suddenly I was struggling to contain the intense emotion coursing through me. I felt _so much_ for Ichigo, and he was blowing it off as fucking _"confused"?_

No. I wasn't confused. It was in this moment I suddenly realized how _clear_ my feelings were. I knew exactly how I thought about Ichigo, and it was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

"You're wrong, kid." I stepped forward, impassioned to see this through to the end. "Yeah, all this time I've thought I was straight, and I've been a total fucking manwhore about it. I've never been in a relationship with a woman before because I'm only with them for the sex. But…but you…" Ichigo was watching me now, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "You're different. I don't want to just fuck you then drop you."

I took another step forward, feeling both hesitant and bold. He had slowly backed up until his back bumped against the wall, and I leaned against the wall, my muscular arm hanging inches from his face. My eyes never left his. "Ichigo…I'm 100% gay for you."

And there it was. I finally, officially acknowledged my sexual orientation was no longer ticked off as "straight." I was heterosexual and Ichigosexual. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders, and a surge of bliss washed over me.

I finally liked someone for more than just carnal desire, and I liked it that way.

Ichigo was watching me with keen eyes now. His gaze was penetrating, and I met it evenly. Sure. Look for any signs that what I said was a lie. You won't find any.

I could tell he could tell I was telling the truth, too. His tense shoulders relaxed a little, and his chocolate and caramel eyes held a more neutral emotion.

He looked away, his eyes to the floor. "You're delusional. There's no reason someone like you would want someone like me." His hands were trembling so he stuffed them in his pockets, and I saw him blink away tears. "You have no idea how many men I've...been bedded by."

His entire demeanor was one of loathing. He was so self-deprecating, why did he have to hate himself so much? I wanted to kiss him, touch him, _something,_ just to make it go away.

I was a womanizer, that was common knowledge. He had said so himself that it showed up in the tabloids a lot. But even though Ichigo and I have both had sex with lots of people, he viewed his experience as so much dirtier, as so much more _wrong._

I took a step closer, then another, and soon I was slowly and carefully enveloping him in my arms. My chest was still bare, and he shuddered at my touch. Did he react to me the same way I reacted to him?

Were our feelings more mutual than I realized?

"I don't care if you've been with a thousand men. I don't care if you've been with a fucking million." Ichigo wrapped his arms around my lower back, and I rested my head on his. "All I care about is—."

There was a loud knock on the door, and Mindy's loud, obnoxious wailing could be heard from miles away.

"Grimmjoowwww," she called out. "Fuck mmeeeee."

I grit my teeth and a deep, husky growl escaped my mouth. I let go of Ichigo and stomped to the door, throwing it open to see Mindy scantily clad in a small pink blouse and barely-there shorts.

My voice was filled with venom, and my eyes with deadly daggers. "Mindy, if you ever come back here again I will personally, directly participate in your death." Even as intoxicated as she was fear lurked in her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled in shock. "Delete my number and forget I live here." I pointed to the stairs. "Now go away before I grab the shotgun I keep under my bed."

She was stunned into silence for only a moment. Then she was wailing, sobbing loudly as she stumbled away in her slutty stilettos.

I huffed, satisfied as I shut the door.

I turned around, seething. I looked to Ichigo, and the amorous, intense atmosphere we'd had before was shattered like it'd never been.

Ichigo blinked up at me, a cautious but amused glint in his eye. "You wouldn't actually shoot her…right?"

I fake chuckled. I still wasn't calmed down enough to actually be amused. "Nah, but it's a good intimidation tactic. I've used it more than once."

He snickered silently, amused. "I'll keep that in mind."

"No." I reached out and grabbed his arm. I was suddenly completely, gravely serious. "You don't need to. I would never say that to you."

He rolled his eyes, pulling slightly on my arm to test the grip. "I'm sure that's what you first say about everyone." He didn't demonstrate the same utter seriousness as I did. He was humored by the empty threat I tossed around. He wasn't taking my words sincerely.

"You're wrong," I said, but I could tell he'd already let the conversation drop. I was arguing for his virtue, but he was entirely indifferent. No matter how much I spoke well of him, he didn't believe me.

I'd let it go for now. Deep down I knew Ichigo was different. In time, I'd prove it to him.

I softened my grip, but I couldn't bring myself to fully let go. He was too soft, too warm.

I checked my clock on the wall. Holy fuck. "Wow. It's already 4:45."

Ichigo's eyes widened in shock. He looked at the clock for verification then smirked. "Damn. You're a bad influence," he said, but in clearly a joking manner.

I huffed, playing along until dread started to build in my stomach. I, I really didn't want him to leave. Would he…Would he be willing to stay the night again?

I opened my mouth to speak, but Ichigo beat me to it. "Can I stay over tonight?" He was looking at me with wide inquisitive eyes.

I choked on my own tongue, barely hiding my surprise and excitement. I nodded almost spastically in the affirmative. "Y-Yeah. Sure."

He nodded his thanks, walking into my bedroom. I followed him, and he pulled open one of my dresser drawers. He grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

He tossed the shirt he was currently wearing off, and I suddenly noticed something I had never, ever wanted to see on him. _Ever._

There were a multitude of scars scattered across his back and shoulders. There was no pattern, just a bunch of crisscrosses and slashes. They didn't look deep, but god there were a-fucking-billion.

"Ichigo…" I whispered, stepping forward. He jumped slightly, turning to see me. Had he not noticed I had followed?

A light pink tint of embarrassment was glossed over his cheeks. Then he noticed the gravity of my glare, and the blush faded. He followed my gaze, looking down to see what I saw.

"Ah…" he responded cryptically.

"What happened?" I asked, almost in awe as I touched a hand to one of the scars below his neck. It wasn't just his back. It was all over.

"I mean…" Ichigo shrugged, looking away. He avoided eye contact like the plague. "You can imagine my occupation isn't exactly…safe."

I wanted to argue. How could being a prostitute cause _this_ many injuries? Was that the _only_ cause, _truly?_ Did this actually happen when he was kidnapped? But I refrained from arguing, muttering a sad, "I guess…"

Ichigo resumed dressing, pulling the t-shirt over his shoulders and onto his lean torso. He kicked off his jeans—there was no way I couldn't stare at his ass as he bent over— and put on the pair of shorts.

All I could do was gawk in awe as he changed. It was so hot to see him wearing my clothes.

Too bad it was coming right back off.

I bent down and wrapped my arms around the middle of Ichigo's thighs. Tight in my grip I lifted, carrying Ichigo over my shoulder. He gasped but chose not to protest.

I walked over then carefully rolled him off of me, placing him in the middle of my bed. I climbed on top of him, my knees on either side of his thighs and hands holding me up above him. Ichigo said nothing, but I could see the hesitance, the fear, in his eyes.

I looked down at his clothed torso. Those scars…they were hidden, but they were still there. Every day he saw them as a reminder. Every time he looked in the mirror he caught a glimpse of his scars, and of the pain he endured. He would have to deal with the bastards that caused this for the rest of his life, all because they chose to leave their mark on him.

Someone had tainted him. These scars made me angry, they made me _infuriated,_ and I hated it. I hated these scars, I hated my reaction. I wanted them _gone._

I lifted the hem of Ichigo's shirt, pulling it up until it rested along his perky pink nipples. I did my best not to stare and get fucking aroused. That was not the point of what I was doing.

Ichigo hadn't said anything this whole time, but I could tell he was nervous. He didn't know what to expect from me, didn't know what I'd do.

And that was just fine.

I bent down, kissing the first scar I saw. It was along the middle of his abdomen, long and angry. Unlike Ichigo I wasn't systematic. At work yes, but here? I wanted to keep him guessing. I wanted to confuse his body so much it was an explosion of senses every time he felt my lips brush against his flesh. I jumped from scar to scar, wherever my brain told me to go, but I didn't miss a single one. Each and every scar received my lips.

With each kiss Ichigo relaxed further into my touch. He moaned lightly, his breath raspy and breathless. At one point he had held a hand to my hair, running his fingers through the strands, but now his hands were fisted in the sheets, knuckles white. His chest was moving from the exertion, and sweat lightly dripped down his body.

I stopped kissing—two seconds tops—to look at his both gorgeous and arousing facial expression. He was so fucking beautiful, and despite my biggest efforts I was hard as a rock.

I continued my process as Ichigo watched me with lidded eyes.

I spoke, my voice absolute. "Never look at these scars with anger, or with shame." A deep scar sat on his right nipple, and I kissed it, loving the way Ichigo arched his back into my touch. "Look at these scars and remember this moment." I traveled upward toward his collarbone. "Remember my touch, remember my lips." I pulled the shirt completely off Ichigo's body, and he allowed it, beautiful and compliant like a pretty doll. I took all of his weight into my arms, flipping him over and beginning again on his back. There were still so many scars…

I kissed the first one I saw. "Remember everything you deserve, because that's exactly what I'm giving you."

Ichigo purred softly, dissolving like putty in my hands. Seeing him like this made me think of an angel. A beautiful, orange-haired, chocolate and caramel angel.

I kissed every single scar that I saw. I wanted so badly to take off all his clothes and repeat the process, but I didn't want to scare him. I didn't want to push Ichigo into something that could make him feel uncomfortable.

The fact I was willing to go at Ichigo's pace when it came to sexual things was a true testament to how deep I was in this. I had _never_ felt this way about _anyone._ It was almost scary how crazy I was about this kid.

I kissed his scapula, moved along his spine, up to his neck. Scars or no scars, everything about Ichigo was perfect. How was that not so blatantly obvious to him?

I just didn't understand.

When I finished my kisses I gently turned him back onto his back. I pushed his bangs out of his eyes, staring in awe as I saw the most trusting, most loving gaze he has ever bestowed upon me.

I felt giddy. It was almost like I was getting high off Ichigo.

I hoped I never came down from it.

Never removing my gaze from Ichigo I caressed his cheek with the back of my hand. "Do you understand now?" Do you understand how much I care about you?

He looked half-asleep in pleasure, and he nodded slowly. Lifting his arms he rested his hands on my neck, pulling me forward. I was stunned into silence as he leaned up to place a soft kiss on my cheek. His plump lips stroked my skin, and my entire body shivered at the contact.

He pulled back, and I nuzzled my nose into his neck, overwhelmed with some foreign emotion. I was almost drunk off my love for Ichigo.

Love…? Could it even possibly be love…?

I pulled back, and I watched as Ichigo's eyes were slowly fluttering closed.

I decided now wasn't the time to ponder it, situating our bodies and letting the covers drape over us. We stayed entwined in each other, my arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Goodnight, Ichigo," I said as I softly ran my fingers through his soft hair.

Ichigo's arms tightened around me. He stayed in that position as he fell asleep, his body going slack in my grip.

As I looked down at him I couldn't help but be amazed. It was weird how one person could make me feel so complete. I wondered if Ichigo even realized how incredibly, irresistibly infatuated I was.

**XxXxXxX**

**Chapter 9 successfully completed!**

**So I must confess…If you all have been enjoying this fanfic concept and been enjoying my storytelling, there is another Grimmichi story I currently have in the works, that’ll be releasing to the public in the coming weeks. So follow me if you desire to stay updated on that. :D ******

****


	10. Chapter 10

**I honestly wanted to work on editing and posting this to get it to you quickly. I have been so appreciative of everyone’s generous feedback. You all really do provide me the incentive need haha. Again, thank you.**

**No sex in this chapter. But…sexy things do happen toward the end. Look forward to it. ;)**

**Enjoy Chapter 10!**

**XxXxXxX**

I woke up to my right hand feeling absolute, unimaginable bliss. I couldn't even explain it. It felt warm, but it felt more than that, too. It felt soft skin, but that skin seemed like a cloud. A cloud of absolute fucking perfection.

I didn't want to open my eyes because I was so fucking scared this was some amazing dream. That when I woke up the sensation would be gone and I'd be left cold, empty, and alone.

Something resituated on my chest. I was so focused on my euphoric hand I hadn’t paid attention to my other body parts. That finally encouraged me to awaken from this bliss. 

_Please don't be a dream, please don't be a dream, please don't be a dream._

Upon opening my eyes the first thing my eyes immediately landed on was Ichigo. His belly was on my belly, and his orange hair was slightly disheveled from sleep. It was pointing in numerous directions, and the only word I could think of to describe it was _beautiful._

But then I looked down a little more, and I realized the beauty of his hair didn't even compare to the beauty of his face.

His cheeks were a rosy, bright red, and he had the most embarrassed look on his face I had ever seen. I didn't even realize his face could _look_ like that. I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

Ichigo gazed up at me and saw that I was awake, and that just seemed to make his cheeks redder.

I was still hazy from sleep, and I slurred, "Wut? Wut's goin' on?"

I heard Ichigo swallow, and he shifted slightly on my body. The movement went straight to my cock, and I barely withheld the groan that was about to erupt from deep in my throat. _Fuck_ I’m hard as fuck.

Well…this was awkward.

"U-Um…" Ichigo avoided my gaze. I thought he was going to call me out on my boner, that that was the reason he felt so embarrassed.

But then I made the motion of taking his chin into my hand, and I stopped in my tracks. I didn't move one muscle. My brain went to a screeching halt, and I suddenly backtracked a couple of steps.

Wait…Wait…Where was my hand right now?

My right hand was still surging with warmth and bliss and perfection so…what was the source?

I followed the length of my arm to find the location of my hand. Suddenly my eyes were wide, and my cheeks flushed with flaming red.

Sometime during the night my hands had scurried under Ichigo's clothing. The left hand, the more innocent hand, was resting on his lower back, the pointer finger barely slipped beneath the waistband of his shorts. The other hand…I closed my eyes and worked to calm my breathing…

The other hand was now nestled comfortably between his underwear and left butt cheek.

I had his _full,_ plump, gorgeous, amazing ass cheek in the palm of my hand.

As I finally fully understood the situation my mouth opened, and I gaped like a floundering fucking fish. O-Oh _god._

Now both of our cheeks were burning red, and god help me I still hadn't moved my hand. It was like it was frozen in place, but from heat. It was just so fucking _warm._ It was so damn comfortable, and it wasn't listening to my brain. I was _screaming_ at it to move. Why the fuck wouldn't it move?

Ichigo spoke up. "U-Um…Grimmjow..?"

I swallowed. Blood was flooding into my cheeks and genitals. "Uh, u-uh…" I gulped awkwardly, and I knew Ichigo was waiting for me to move it. "Y-You have a…" I cleared my throat. "A really nice ass."

My hand instinctively squeezed his butt cheek, and I nearly drowned in self-loathing. Did I have _any_ self-control? _Fuck._

If that was possible Ichigo's cheeks grew even redder. "T-Thanks, but…u-um.."

He didn't finish his sentence and finally, fucking finally, my hand understood whom it belonged to. I slowly pulled it out, removing it from the spectacular place it had made it's home.

I cleared my throat, ignoring how cold and desolate my right hand now felt. "S-Sorry about t-that…"

Ichigo nodded, cheeks still a deep crimson. "It-It's okay." He gave a small smile as he got off of me and stood. My entire body ached for him like it's never ached for anyone. "I should get going now."

My immediate reaction was to protest. Why did he have to leave? Was it because of my hand's betrayal? It'll never happen again I swear just stay with me I’ll cut it off if you stay.

But none of those words made it to my vocal cords. I was disappointed, but I understood.

I got out of bed as he changed into his own pants. I remembered Ichigo's t-shirt from last night, that had been ripped by that fucker Barragan. "Keep the shirt."

He nodded his thanks. He still hadn't recovered from my hands' promiscuity, but he was taking it better than I'd expected. I was scared there'd be anger, screaming, _something._ Ichigo was the most attractive person I've ever met, and I couldn't imagine all the inappropriate advances he has received.

But mine wasn't my _fault,_ I was _asleep._

My treacherous brain reminded me, _you still groped him while you were awake._

After he dressed I reluctantly led him to the door. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I grasped at straws to think of a distraction.

I leaned against the doorframe of the now open door, still holding Ichigo's attention. "C-Can I offer you a bottle of water to go…or, or something?"

The corners of his lips rose in amusement, and he shook his head. "No thanks." His steps brought him farther away from me, and he crossed the threshold. He waved. "See ya."

I was so sad he was leaving I almost forgot to say goodbye. "Bye!" I belatedly yelled to him as he walked down the stairs.

After he was out of sight I closed the door, and I leaned my head against it. I breathed a deep sigh, annoyed with him and annoyed with myself. 90% myself.

Why did I have to react like this? Every time Ichigo leaves, 2 thoughts run through my head. First, “Please come back, please come back.” But the second, horribly pervasive one is…"Is he leaving to perform his job? Is he going to sell his body to a fucking pervert? Is he going to be _raped?_ "

I reared back my head and slammed it into the door. _Ugh!_ Why did I have to be like this? I was so fucking disgusting. Why did I always have to assume he was leaving to go do his _job?_ Couldn't I think of anything else?

Fierce jealousy seeped through my veins as I thought of his clients. Every time Ichigo accepted a client's advances he hurt himself, and it became another mental scar he had to live with.

They had all been with Ichigo, but none of them felt the way I felt about him.

I swallowed, and I took another deep breath. I pushed off the door, walking into my living area.

I absently looked out the window, shoving my hands into my pockets. The more I thought about it the more my resolve grew. If I wanted Ichigo to heal, to be _happy,_ then his lifestyle had to stop. I would have to convince Ichigo to stop being a prostitute.

From my viewpoint through the window I could see Ichigo walking away from my apartment complex and toward the poorer side of the city. He strode with confidence. His back was straight, his stride long, but what lurked within him was darker, more primal. He was always on the defensive, ready to strike if threatened. I had to keep him safe, I had to steer him away from prostitution. _It was a great idea, but would his pride allow it?_

I watched him until he turned the corner.

_I guess we'll find out._

XxXxXxX

A week later and I was working in my office, typing up a manuscript for the sales rep. Ichigo and I had been texting a lot throughout the day today, and I was feeling oddly happier than usual.

There was a knock on the door, and I voiced them entrance.

I'd been expecting Hinamori with her awkward and unwanted displays of affection, but who greeted me instead was Stark Coyote, the boss of this branch.

"Yo," he said, lazily waving in my direction. He closed the door behind him and walked farther into the space.

He'd never visited me before, so I was inevitably curious. "Yo. What brings you here?"

He sighed, plopping heavily into the chair Nnoitra usually occupies.

Stark spoke, voice sullen. "I need a favor. Do you have a copy of that sheet I'm supposed to send over to billing? I can't find mine anywhere."

Of course he couldn't. Lazy fucktard. This guy would be so much better if he actually put effort into his work.

"Yeah, I have a copy at my apartment. I'll bring it tomorrow."

Stark made an awkward grimace. "Yeahhh, about that."

My eyebrow twitched, and I stared at him.

He continued. "The due date is tomorrow morning, and I don't want to look like a good-for-nothing and turn it in right at the deadline."

_Then maybe you shouldn't misplace your shit._

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, took another deep breath.

I nodded. "Alright. Then do you want me to go get it now?"

He waved his hands in disapproval. "No no, no need for that. I'm gonna send someone to pick it up from your apartment tonight."

Send someone to my apartment when he could just do it himself? The epitome of lazy.

"Alright, I'll have it ready."

Stark nodded, sighing in relief like a heavy burden was just lifted from him. "Thanks, Grimmjow. Appreciate it."

"Yep."

He began to leave the office, but just as he walked through the door's threshold he turned around. "Oh yeah, one more thing." I looked up. "Your boss at the other branch called earlier today. You'll probably be transferred back over soon."

My eyes immediately widened, and I had a glorious grin on my face. Really? That's great! I don't have to deal with this shitty Nnoitra anymore, or endure Hinamori's awkward pick-up attempts. I could finally get back to working with people that truly excelled at their job and wanted to better themselves. Gosh, I couldn't wait to tell Ichigo.

My heart skipped a beat, and slowly my smile fell. I...I wanted to move, but...but...Ichigo...

Stark departed, and I stared at the door that now separated us. What the hell was going to happen now? Would I have to leave Ichigo? Was this how we had to part? But...But I didn't _want_ to part. I wanted to stay with him forever.

What was I supposed to do if my lifestyle dictated otherwise?

XxXxXxX

At 8pm I got a text from Nnoitra saying he was on his way to pick up the billing information.

I had it stacked and ready to go on the kitchen counter, prepared to give it to him so I could shove him back out the door _immediately_ after. I wanted to think of a solution to my transfer, that also involved Ichigo, and I didn't have time to deal with his shit today.

Today was a Wednesday, and Ichigo had once explained to me that Nnoitra was one of the many who purchased him on a set schedule (that had been why he was always asking me what time it was. He had _clients_ to attend to). Nnoitra bought him every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and often times on the weekend as well.

Ichigo and I hadn't texted since I got off work, so I sincerely hoped he had already finished with the fucker.

I dicked around for a half-hour, and at 8:40 a loud knock boomed through my apartment. I rolled my eyes, setting my beer down on the kitchen counter before walking over and yanking the door open.

A smirking, way-too-fucking-happy Nnoitra presented himself, and I almost punched his bitch face merely on principle.

"Heya, Grimmie—."

"Grimmjow."

His ever-present grin remained. "'Scuse me, Grimmjow. I hope it's okay that I brought a visitor. Stark didn't…time his request very well."

I cocked an eyebrow. What the fuck was this shit talking about? A visitor?

It was then I looked down to see Nnoitra's hand was clasping a thin wrist that didn't belong to him. The owner's body was out of sight, and pieces of the puzzle were slowly starting to click together.

Nnoitra pulled on the wrist, bringing the body into view.

I stared in awe at Ichigo as he stared at the floor. I'd known Ichigo would be with Nnoitra on Wednesdays, but _of all times fucking_ now? _Fuck._

I was quick to notice something was off. Ichigo looked different, really different. This wasn't the Ichigo I was used to. His cheeks were flushed, and he deliberately let his orange hair fall fully over his eyes. He wasn't wearing his jacket, and was instead just holding it awkwardly.

He blatantly refused to make eye contact with me. His lips were sealed tightly shut, and it was clear he wasn't intending to greet me. Why? Why was he doing that? Did I make him angry? Did he dislike that Nnoitra and I interacted with each other like this?

If so…rest assured I hate it even more than you, Ichigo.

I pulled the door aside, allowing them entrance.

Nnoitra led Ichigo into the room, guiding him by the wrist. I wanted to yell at him and stab him with a javelin for treating Ichigo like a dog, like a _possession._

I didn't, though. As much as I despised both Nnoitra and Ichigo's profession I didn't say anything, and I grabbed the documents I was supposed to get to Stark.

I didn't want Nnoitra to make himself too comfortable in my apartment. "Here," I growled. I hated Nnoitra. I hated Nnoitra so much I wanted to stab his eyes out and force them down his throat. I wanted to cut off the hand holding Ichigo's wrist and beat him to death with it.

Nnoitra took the documents with the unoccupied hand, barely glancing at the first page. "Aw, thanks Grimmie."

"Grimmjow."

"'Scuse me, Grimmjow."

I almost wanted to tap my foot impatiently. "That all you need?"

Nnoitra walked him and Ichigo farther into the room. Ichigo's head was still down and avoiding me, and they both sat down on the sofa.

I hated that Nnoitra was making himself comfortable in my apartment, but…but if it let Ichigo stay a little longer, then I couldn't complain.

Maybe I could also figure out what was so weird about Ichigo tonight.

With my view from the kitchen I took the time to observe Ichigo more closely. I still couldn't see his eyes. His cheeks were bright red and his mouth was clamped shut. His jacket rested in his lap, his hand fisted in the material. Even from this distance I could tell he was shaking.

What…What the fuck was going on?

Nnoitra undid his grasp on Ichigo wrist, moving his hand to snake along the kid's inner thigh. Nnoitra smirked as Ichigo let out a low moan, dipping his head forward to further hide himself.

Wait, wait…I blinked in astonishment as my cheeks turned a light pink. Did Ichigo just _moan?_

My eyes widened, and I tried to get a glimpse of the front of his pants. The jacket was still firmly held in his lap.

Was Ichigo…was Ichigo _aroused?_

That would explain the red cheeks and blatant avoidance. That would explain why he was covering himself. But the question was _why_ was he aroused? Holy fuck.

Gods, but I was glad I was standing behind the kitchen counter. Knowing he was aroused kind of made _me_ aroused…

"Nnoitra," I growled, and the man whipped his head around to grin at me.

"Grimmie, my apologies. I'd forgotten you were there. Please, come join us."

I snorted. "Hell no. You got what you needed, now get out." I tapped the glass on my gold watch. "Stark is expecting that tonight." I wanted Ichigo to stay, but what I wanted even more than that was for Ichigo to not be fucking molested.

Nnoitra groaned and pouted. He looked at the clock on the wall, then at the documents in his hand. There was no point in disagreeing with me; I was right.

A long moment passed before he sighed, groaning in acceptance. "A'ight, a'ight, I'll go."

He turned to Ichigo, and despite his disappointment it was clear he was having _too_ much fucking fun. He's leaving, why is he so damn amused? I wanted to punch the smirk off of this sick bastard.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to end it early with ya. Had lots of fun, though." He pulled dollar bills from his pocket. "Here's a generous tip to do you-know-what." For a split second his gaze was serious and deadly, his voice deep. "You'll do it…correct?"

Mouth glued shut, Ichigo nodded his head clumsily and furiously.

"Good." Nnoitra grasped Ichigo's crotch through the crumbled jacket in his lap. The kid let out a muffled moan, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling it more.

The grin was back on Nnoitra's face, and he petted Ichigo's cheek. I barely withheld my growl. His voice lowered in volume a bit when he said, "When I leave you can spit it out, and not a second before."

With that Nnoitra stood, and I was stunned into silence by their entire interaction. What the fuck was going on? What's you-know-what? What's Ichigo going to spit out?

Nnoitra did a stupid gay-ass "toodaloo" before heading to the door and leading himself out.

The second the door shut behind him Ichigo was off the couch. His sprint was also a slight limp, but he moved at lightning speed in the direction of my bedroom.

He disappeared past the door's threshold and I ran in after him, my body on fire. Twenty thousand alarm bells were going off in my head, and I didn't know what to think of _any_ of this.

All I knew was that Ichigo was here, and I was damn well going to make sure he was okay.

By the time I made it to the bedroom the sound of Ichigo vomiting filled my ears. I ran to the adjoining bathroom to see him kneeling in front of the toilet, his body huddled over the porcelain bowl.

"Ichigo, what happened?! Are you okay?" I immediately walked farther into the room and reached out to touch him. He flinched violently and shrank back, and I pulled my arm away like it'd been burned.

What was happening? What did Nnoitra do? Why was Ichigo acting this way? Neither of us were particularly affectionate with touches or pats on the back or shit like that, but he'd _never_ reacted to me like that. For the few times I _did_ touch him it didn't bother him. It had never scared him.

So why now?

Ichigo was just spitting into the bowl now, thankfully the worst of it over. I didn't try to reach out again. I merely stood there beside him, ready to be there at the first sign of need.

Ichigo was breathing heavily. He wiped an arm across his mouth, and he slowly stood from his kneeling position. He flushed the toilet, and I stepped out of his way so he could walk to the bathroom sink.

I hadn't just been imagining it, either. Ichigo was _limping._

"Ichigo, what's going on?" Rage churned in my belly, and I growled. "Did he hurt you?"

He barely put in the effort to shake his head "no" before he turned the faucet on. If he wasn't injured then why was he limping? Ichigo spat into the sink, scraped at his tongue with his fingernails, gargled obscene amounts of water. He did fucking anything and everything to get whatever was in his mouth out.

Yet, I still didn't understand why.

Ichigo's chest was moving up and down in heavy pants and he finally, finally, spoke. "Come."

I immediately moved to stand beside him.

Ichigo shook his head. "N-No."

I immediately backed up. I was trying so damn hard to understand. I bent down to be at eye level with Ichigo, and for the first time all night I could look into his eyes.

They were like nothing I was expecting.

His pupils were full-blown dilated, and his eyes were rimmed with red. His eyes actually looked intimidating, and the chocolate and caramel was almost completely overwhelmed by black.

But then I remembered the front of his pants. Ichigo…Ichigo had been aroused.

I looked down and saw that he still was.

Well that explained the limp, but...how...how could he remain aroused even while vomiting his fucking guts out?

Something wasn't adding up here.

He was aroused, but he also looked disgusted beyond belief, and his eyes were glistening with tears. "C-Cum. Nnoitra's cum in…in m-my _mouth._ " His bottom lip trembled.

The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. I finally understood, and I couldn't hide the look of utter revulsion. Nnoitra, you motherfucking _fucker._ In all my existence I have never, in my life, heard of something so sadistic. What the fuck! How long has Ichigo had to keep that in his mouth?

"I'm so sorry. That's…that's _fucking_ disgusting. I'm so sorry."

"I'm hard." He sounded like he wanted to sob, and he tentatively grabbed at the front of his pants. "I-It hurts. I'm so goddamn hard."

Why did he look so sad, so desperate? His arousal was oddly arousing, but his pain…that was 100% _not._

My own distress was palpable, and I wanted to reach out to him. "I really don't understand what's going on, Ichigo. What happened?"

He didn't look at me, and he draped a hand over his face. "Nn-Nnoitra. He said y-you had to. H-He said I c-couldn't do it myself. P-Please…" He clenched his eyes tightly, dipping his head forward.

I was desperate with worry. I couldn't remember a time so many fierce emotions had run through me. I was on the verge of a heart attack and the only remedy in the world was this beautiful, hurting man in front of me

"Tell me," I exclaimed, and I could hear how frantic my voice sounded.

He swallowed audibly. "Please don't be grossed out."

I didn't miss a beat. "I won't be."

He looked into my eyes for verification, and what he saw there must have reassured him. With shaking hands he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. I could feel myself staring the entire time, and I was now staring at the visible hump in his boxers.

Oh gods, oh gods…even through his boxers his _erection_ was so _clear._

My own erection was suddenly making its presence known, and I cleared my throat awkwardly.

Ichigo moved the waistband of his boxers down, and my heart jumped up into my throat. Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

He pulled the underwear down to his thighs, and I was presented with a massively hard cock. A device was wrapped tightly around the base of his penis, and it took me only a moment to identify it as a cockring.

Nnoitra…this had come up in conversation before. Nnoitra had asked if I thought he should buy Ichigo a cockring.

He went through with it, the fucker _actually_ went through with it.

I was going to _cut his dick off and shove it down his throat_ next time I saw him. That _bastard!_

He was a bastard, but, but…I swallowed, feeling the blood rush to my penis. Fuck. This left me…Fuck. This left me with a very interesting predicament.

Ichigo had his eyes closed shut, and he muffled a moan with his forearm. Removing his penis from the confinement of his jeans must have felt very...freeing.

I gulped. My cheeks were hot with blood, and I couldn't look away. Even if the building was on fire around me, as long as Ichigo was turned on, he’d be the only one I cared about.

Fuck, I didn’t care if the fucking _world_ burned down.

I've never been so turned on by a person's body in my life.

And what I saw on Ichigo's face was no longer sadness or shame or fear. No, it was far from that. I held in my breath, glancing between his dick and his eyes.

His eyes…they were lustful. Lustful and longing and looking only at _me._

The desperation in his gaze was endless, and crushing, intense desire welled up within me. I was absolutely, without a doubt about to explode with lust.

"G-Grimm-jow," Ichigo whined, taking a step forward until we were mere inches apart. He clawed faintly at my chest while his other hand hesitantly gripped his erection. "P-Please…"

I swallowed the drool that almost dripped out of my mouth. The way he had said my name, the way he needed _me_. It wasn't fair that I was having so much fun with this. Why was I having so much fun with this?

Watching him like this, watching him watch _me_ gave me confidence, maybe more than I needed. I pulled his hand away from his dick and replaced it with my own. My grasp was firm and steady. And it felt…invigorating.

Ichigo's responsive moan made my ears ring in ecstasy. I could feel myself smirking as I asked innocently, "Please what?"

His cheeks were flushed a bright red I'd never seen before. "Pl-Please take it o- _off."_

I played and teased the base of his cock, and Ichigo bucked his hips into my hand. "F- _Fuck._ " His eyes were squeezed tight and sweat dripped down his temple.

I shook my head. “Mmm, but I don’t feel like you asked very nicely.” I let my forefinger and thumb grip the base of his cock, and slowly went up and down. I lightly squeezed his tip.

Ichigo’s responding moan was almost enough to make me cum right there. “A-Ah! P-Please. I-I’ll do an-anything.” He clawed at my chest, his eyes swirling with arousal and desperation. “Anything, j-just let me cum.”

I leaned forward until my lips lightly grazed his ear. He shivered.

I spoke with a husky voice. "Kiss me and I might take it off."

I was horrible. I was the worst. But as I stared down into Ichigo's lust-filled eyes all I could think of were his lips on mine.

He couldn't think straight either. Fuck, was I fucking taking _advantage_ of him?

But before I could finish that train of thought crashed his lips into mine.

Thousands and thousands of sensations immediately overcame me. Fuck. I was burning up. I was so hot I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

How long had I been dreaming of these lips? How long had I fantasized about his bright orange hair, chocolate and caramel eyes, perky nipples, and fucking plump and edible lips?

We could finally share our first kiss and it was under circumstances like these?

There was too much heat in my pants for me to complain right now. I involuntarily moaned into his mouth, savoring the feel of his lips against mine. They were so moist, so soft, and I slyly slid my tongue between his teeth.

Our tongues danced together in a heated battle. Ichigo arms were wrapped around my neck. One of my hands was fisted in the back of his hair while the other slid up and down along his hard cock.

His wanton moans and whimpers were making my knees weak and my pants so tight I thought I was going to break out of them.

I broke the liplock, trailing heavy kisses along his jaw. "You are so beautiful," I murmured. I lightly bit his ear, tugging on the cartilage, and a sharp gasp escaped him.

"F-F- _Fuck_ ," Ichigo whimpered. I looked down at his weeping member, red from the buildup of pressure. Precum leaked out, and I wanted to bend at the knees and suck him dry.

Instead I reached behind him and grabbed a handful of his bare ass. He gasped, and I eagerly squeezed the round cheek.

"Do you like that?" I asked.

Ichigo nodded eagerly. "Yes, y-yes, _fuck._ P-please…"

I licked the tip of his nose. I asked again, "Please what?"

I advanced my hips forward, running my clothed cock into his bare one. Whatever he was going to say died in his mouth, and he doubled over, his forehead landing on my shoulder.

He was panting hard. "A-Ah…I…"

I continued grinding on him, slow enough to be infuriating but fast enough to be intoxicating. Fuck I was so hard and aroused I knew I couldn’t take much more. "Hm?"

His fingernails left imprints in my skin. "T-The ring, p-please…ah…"

"You want me to take it off?"

"Y-Yes, ple— _ah_ …" His pleas were interrupted by a groan as my tongue trailed along the nape of his neck and along his ear. He tasted like sweat and sex and deliciousness I could only ever associate with Ichigo.

But I had teased this boy enough, and I was so goddamn hard I knew I was geuinely about to bust.

I smirked. "As you wish."

I cupped his balls teasingly before resting a firm grip on the cockring. Ichigo inhaled sharply, and with one swift tug I freed him from his restraint.

Moans escaped Ichigo's pretty lips, and his hand immediately went to his cock to finish himself off. I stopped him with a lightning-fast hand.

I purred, looking into his dark eyes, "Allow me." I spun him around, pressing his back flush against my chest. I reached around, took him into my palm and pumped.

Ichigo moaned loudly, his breath quickening. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around my neck. His mouth latched onto my neck like a leech. I was so goddamn fucking turned on it wasn't even _fucking funny._

It wasn't long before Ichigo came, and the part-moan, part-scream he released made an explosion of sensation run through me. I grunted, and I came, too, my teeth sinking into Ichigo’s shoulder.

Semen spilt in my boxers, and Ichigo's was splattered over his shirt. We rode out our orgasms with a hot, messy kiss, our tongues and teeth licking and biting at each other.

This was such an amazing moment. With all my previous sexual partners I had never felt so united before. Kissing had never been so much fun. It was weird how _right_ this felt. I wanted moments like this to last forever. I mean fuck I could cuddle with this man. I wanted to _cuddle_ right now, post-orgasm.

It was more than lust, too, it was more than the sexual act. It was something… _deeper._ Something I couldn't name, but I hoped in time that I could.

But as my hormones died down reality slowly replaced it. I pondered my actions, my perversions, and I began to understand just how horribly I had fucked up. Nnoitra had forced Ichigo to wear the cockring, and he had forced Ichigo into his arousal. Nnoitra brought him here with the _plan_ I touch him like this.

I had taken advantage of the situation. Fuck. I was exactly like _Nnoitra._

I hated myself, felt disgusted for doing this to Ichigo, but I couldn't move. My hands rested low on his hips now, and Ichigo hadn't moved from his position. We weren't kissing, our faces now mere inches apart. I stared into his eyes as he stared into mine. He seemed stunned, but I was so glad it wasn't more.

Soon, though…soon the wrath would come. Because I was disgusting, I _deserved_ it. I had _hurt_ him.

The spilt cum in my boxers stuck to me uncomfortably, but it was a distant realization. All I could focus on was Ichigo. Ichigo, who was looking into my eyes with an emotion I couldn't come close to identifying. It looked like he regretted what happened, but also like…something else. Like there was more to it.

I continued staring into his eyes. I wanted so badly to decipher the enigma that was Ichigo.

His mouth moved, and my gaze shifted to watch his thick lips. They were still moist from us kissing.

"This shouldn't have happened," he whispered, his breath tickling my mouth. His bottom lip trembled.

I closed my eyes, barely hanging my head in shame. Our foreheads touched. "I'm s-so sorry. I-I fucked up…"

He shook his head against mine, but he looked like he was holding back a sob. He didn't speak, just kept shaking his head back and forth. I felt crushed, devastated.

Why was I such a horrible person? Why did I have to be _me?_

I groaned, and now I was fighting back tears, too. "Ugh, this was all my fault, I'm really—"

"No."

I looked up to meet his gaze again, and his eyes were sad. He took down his arms from around me, and he pulled himself off my chest. He created distance between us. He swallowed, voice raspy. "T-This was my doing. I asked you to do it."

I shook my head, angry. "That's not true, that was Nnoitra, _Nnoitra. You_ did nothing wrong."

He wasn't paying attention to me anymore. I stared as we both simultaneously noticed that his boxers were still pooled at his thighs. I hated myself for getting hard at the sight, and with desperate hands Ichigo pulled his clothes back up. His cheeks were tinted a light pink, and I could tell he was ashamed.

But this wasn't his _fault_ , he had _nothing_ to be ashamed of.

"Ichigo, c-can we talk about this please?"

He still wasn't listening. He glanced down at the cum on his shirt, gave a look of disgust, then tossed it off his lean torso. He escaped the bathroom and shuffled around my drawers, finding a white T-shirt to pull on.

It had become a habit I loved that he fell into. When he would come to me with ruined or ripped clothing (courtesy to clients) I'd always give him a spare of mine. He always took it graciously, and after a while he got used to grabbing it himself. I'd actually intentionally stock up on the brands I noticed him grabbing more. It made me feel _helpful _, like I was doing him a good deed no one else could. On a certain level, I think it also made me feel _special. _____

____Would that continue in the long-term, now that I had demeaned him so horribly?_ _ _ _

____I swallowed audibly. I had left the bathroom to follow closely behind Ichigo. After he put on the shirt he didn't waste any time in almost sprinting to the exit. His stride was long and with purpose, and I knew if I didn't do something fast he'd walk out of my apartment and possibly right out of my life._ _ _ _

____I quickly caught up with him, grabbing a thin wrist. "Wait, please."_ _ _ _

____He yanked himself out of my grip, and I stopped following him. My feet felt weighed down by pounds of cement, and I could feel my hope crumbling._ _ _ _

____But I couldn't give up. Not yet. I couldn't give up the one person I cared about more than anyone else._ _ _ _

____I would _not_ lose._ _ _ _

____"Ichigo," I called out. My voice was strong and resolute. Nothing at all like how nervous and uneasy I felt._ _ _ _

____He turned to look at me then. I tried not to notice how dull and broken his expression looked._ _ _ _

____I hoped I was doing the right thing. _Gods,_ I hoped I was doing the right thing... "I'm sorry about what happened. You didn't deserve any of that, I swear. Nnoitra's a disgusting little shit that used your job against you, _made_ you do something you didn't want to.”_ _ _ _

____I swallowed nervously. I noted Ichigo's expression still hasn't changed. "But…But…I know a way we can ensure a situation like…this, doesn't happen again. You don’t deserve this, a-and…and I really like you." The confession was difficult to say out loud, especially in these circumstances. He was still watching me intently, and I didn’t back down. "You quit your job."_ _ _ _

____Several long moments passed. Everything was dead silent, save for the fierce pounding I could hear beating inside my chest. How would he react? Would he understand my perspective, would he understand how much this— _he_ —meant to me?_ _ _ _

____He stared at me for the longest time. Then, when I thought he'd say nothing, he scoffed. "Stop fucking around, Grimmjow." He sounded angry._ _ _ _

____It was then I should have stopped fighting against him. This was potentially the worst time to bring it up. And talking about quitting his job was a heavy subject. It was his only source of income, so of course he wouldn't give in easily. I shouldn't push this on him so quickly; I should just _slow down_ and give him time._ _ _ _

____I should have shut my fucking mouth, but I was an idiot, so I didn't._ _ _ _

____"I'm being serious, just hear me out." I took a step forward. "You don't have to live like this anymore, just live with _me._ I can provide for you. You'll never go hungry, you'll never have to degrade yourself ever again. And your sister Yuzu likes me a lot, right? She'd like that. They'd both like that. I have a lot of money, Ichigo. I can give you everything you need. I can make you happy, I can give you the life you _deserve—"__ _ _ _

____A loud slap resonated through the room. My face was twisted sharply to the side, and I stood in stunned silence._ _ _ _

____My cheek burned, and I turned to face Ichigo._ _ _ _

____His hand was still held up, and his eyes glistened with thick tears._ _ _ _

____His voice shook. "I'm not some weak damsel in distress that needs saving. I'm not some weak kid that's too pathetic to take care of his family."_ _ _ _

____He took a step forward, and he shoved a strong hand into my chest. "I left my sisters, Grimmjow. I left them for _two years._ They had to be taken in by a family from the foster system because I hadn't been there for them." His nose crinkled, and his bottom lip trembled. "I will not abandon them again. My sisters belong to _me,_ and _I_ will take care of them."_ _ _ _

____A tear dropped from his eye, glistening in the fluorescent light of my living room. His entire body was quaking, and even the slightest push looked like it'd knock him over. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My bones had turned to jello. I was weak, I was nothing._ _ _ _

____I had lost._ _ _ _

____He walked away several steps then stopped. His back faced me, and I could see his shoulders visibly shaking. He barely turned his head to gaze at me, and I would never forget that look in his eyes for as long as I lived._ _ _ _

____His voice was low and desolate, and it sounded like he was going to cry. "Don't contact me."_ _ _ _

____He took a step forward, then another, and soon he was at the exit._ _ _ _

____The door slammed behind him, and my legs gave out as I fell to the floor._ _ _ _

____How…How did I do this? How had I messed up so horribly?_ _ _ _

____Even after he left the horror movie replayed over and over, thousands of times. I stared at the door long after he'd gone._ _ _ _

____I felt both sadness and emptiness. I felt everything horrible but at the same time nothing at all. My entire body was numb. I desperately looked to my fridge, remembering its contents. There were beer bottles in there. Lots of them._ _ _ _

____I stopped thinking. That night was the first night I got drunk._ _ _ _

____**XxXxXxX** _ _ _ _

____**So…hear me out. I know the end of this was dramatic and excessive, but it will be short-lived. I’m not super fond of when they’re apart, so I assure you I won’t keep the boys away from each other for long. ^_^ They just need to have some epiphanies alone real quick haha.** ____

_______**We also get some of Ichigo’s POV next chapter.** _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____**Until next time! Thank you all for reading! :D** _ _ _ _


	11. Chapter 11

**Mixing up the POVs again. This is the last chapter we shall be reading from Ichigo's POV.**

**Enjoy!**

**XxXxXxX**

** Grimmjow's POV **

Ultimately, I couldn't go back to work until Wednesday. I had existed in such a drunken and mindless stupor that functioning anytime prior to that was laughable and impossible.

I trudged to the elevator, ignoring the suddenly alarmed look of the receptionist as I passed her and walked into the metal box. Thank god it was empty.

During my days of inebriation I had chosen to ignore the thousands of texts and phone calls I had received from coworkers, but I didn't care. Hinamori had sent me the most, and I vaguely remembered reading she'd "do my work for me" before I deleted the text. It didn't fucking matter to me either way. Shit gets done, shit doesn't get done, what difference did it make?

I walked through the main room and ignored the hushed whispers and nosy glances. I looked like shit but I didn't give a shit. I walked past them without a second glance and soon had myself barricaded in my office. I wanted to be alone. I was already tired of the condemning and judgmental stares. Who cared if my hair was a mess? Who cared if my skin was a little pale, or my stubble was a little thick, or the bags under my eyes were a little deep?

It didn't matter, because nothing mattered.

I plopped into my desk and stared at the wall. Not a minute went by when I wasn't thinking about Ichigo. That look in his eye, that despair, that pain, how could I fucking forget it? It haunted me every time I fucking closed my eyes.

Ichigo…wanted nothing to do with me. He wanted nothing to do with me and it was all my fault. How could I treat him like that? As though he wasn't his own human being, as though I could just rule his life however I pleased.

I'd gotten overzealous. Fuck, I had just wanted him with _me._ That's all I'd truly wanted, and I fucking blew it. _Fuck!_

How did I fix this? How the fuck did I fix what I so horribly fucked up?

I didn't realize I'd slammed my desk until a sharp pain ran down my knuckles and wrist. I pulled my fist off the wood and ran my hands viciously through my hair.

A knock sounded on my office door before Nnoitra peaked his head through the space and walked into the room.

I was fucking pissed at Nnoitra for what he had done to Ichigo, but I knew he wasn't the cause of my own idiocy. I had fucked up. There was no one I could bring to blame but myself.

I was drowning in self-pity and, in my eyes, even Nnoitra was the better man than me. What I had done to Ichigo…

I sneered, trying to subdue my self-loathing. Just because I was bashing on myself didn't mean I wanted to see Nnoitra's fucking face either.

"Go away, Nnoitra."

I hadn't used my voice in days, and I vaguely noted how raspy it sounded. Fuck, everything was so fucked up.

Nnoitra's grin was ever-present, and he plopped into his usual chair. "Aw, why ya so upset, Grimmie? Did something…happen while ya were gone?"

There was a glint of something dark in his eyes, but I was too out of it to see anymore of it. It didn't matter, nothing mattered.

"Fuck off."

He clucked his tongue, as if pondering. "Meh. You're really not my type. My type is more…" He licked his lips. "Orange-haired, gorgeous, and god-like."

My eyes immediately zeroed in on Nnoitra, and my gaze promised lethal action if he _dared_ speak another word.

Nnoitra, even in all his stupidity, noticed my look, and backed down a little, awkwardly clearing his throat. He didn't say anything.

Good.

I opened my laptop up and powered it on. I wasn't in the right mindset to work, but maybe the imitation of working would be enough to get fucking Nnoitra off my fucking back.

It did no such thing, and soon Nnoitra was leaning forward in his chair, watching me curiously. The grin was wide and hideous. "So Grimmie, I got a question. Did you uh…did you like the present I gotcha the other night?"

The last word barely left his mouth before I was standing and slamming my fist into his jaw. He gasped loudly and let out a low squeal, and for once the disgusting grin he wore was replaced by a contortion of pain. He rubbed his jaw, looking at me very angrily.

"Fuck, no need fer that!"

I fisted my hand in his collar and pulled him to my eye level. "Disagree, motherfucker. You pull a stunt like that again and I'll throw your dick into a woodchipper and shove the shredded pieces down your disgusting fucking throat." I growled, and his eyes widened and mouth twisted in fear. "Got it?"

He swallowed. "Y-Ya, got it." I pushed him backwards, and he stumbled and awkwardly fell into his chair. "Hehe, don't wanna r-risk getting my dick chopped off, r-right?"

My eyes never left his. "Leave."

As soon as I said the word he was popping out of the chair and heading to the door. "I'll talk to ya later, Grimmie!" He was quick to close the door behind him.

I pondered his words. A present. Nnoitra had deemed Ichigo a fucking _"present."_ With everything that happened that night with Ichigo's…cockring, I had almost forgotten that Nnoitra _required_ Ichigo receive release from me. Why? Why did he make Ichigo come to me for it? Why wouldn't he have wanted to do it himself?

I didn't get it. What was the motive behind it? Was it just on a whim? Just to try something new and funny and see what happens?

Nnoitra didn't bother me again for the rest of the day, and I was surprised Stark didn't come see me either. I doubted firing me was ever on the itinerary, but he could have at least reprimanded me.

Well…nah. He was probably asleep and had never realized my absence.

Later that night I packed up my shit and headed home. Earlier Hinamori had jumped on the bandwagon of "help Grimmjow get caught up on shit at work," and she'd walked me through every day I had missed. By the time a mere hour had passed I wanted to put my _own_ dick in a woodchipper. It'd hurt like a bitch, but at least it'd kill me so I wouldn't have to keep listening to her.

I walked past the reception desk and into the chilly night. Now that I had left the building, I didn't want to go home. When it'd once been filled by a beautiful and amazing man, it was now cold, empty, and lonesome. I didn't want to go back to my apartment if it meant it'd be an Ichigo-less apartment.

I wasn't in the mood for that level of loneliness, so I roamed the streets. The act of walking alone with no true direction in mind felt lonely as well, but I did my best to purge the thought. I looked up at the vibrant night sky.

Before, I'd gotten the impression Ichigo didn't like the night. Any time I'd caught him looking up at the darkness he'd have a small frown or the slightest crease in his eyebrows. Maybe the darkness brought up bad memories, maybe he was lost in thoughts he didn't want to have.

With his profession I wouldn't be surprised if the darkness was his enemy. The things he must have endured up until now…

I halted my thoughts there. I was depressed enough. I didn't want to dwell on anymore of it.

I passed by a bright and well-lit shopping window, and without a true reason I turned to glance inside. It was a jewelry store. It was nothing I'd ever been interested in before, so I surprised myself when I stopped walking to peak inside the building.

For some inexplicable reason, out of the numerous jewelry pieces on display, only one shot out to me in the most brilliant and awe-inspiring way. It was a necklace, with an intricate bronze key hanging on a simple chain. I stared longer, and a quote was written beneath it on a small plaque, "Only you can unlock the key to my heart."

I stared longer at both the quote and the key. Why did this item speak to me so much? Why was I suddenly so affected?

My thoughts drifted to Ichigo. Was only one person meant to have the key to one's heart? If so, did Ichigo have the key to mine? If it was Ichigo was I really willing to let him go without a fight? Was I just going to let him walk out of my life just because I didn't want to be a nuisance to him, just because I'd done something stupid and now I had to pay for it for the rest of my life?

Is that how it's supposed to worked?

A silver necklace with two adjoining hearts rested beside the key, and I read the quote for that one too, "I have a heart and that is true, but now it has gone from me to you. So care for it just as I do, because I have no heart and you have two."

My eyes glazed, and my hand hesitantly moved to rest against my chest. My heart…

I felt like the wind was knocked out of me by the stark revelation that was now hitting me like a bulldozer. I re-read the quote for the beautiful bronze key.

I was beginning to understand…I was _finally_ beginning to understand just how deep my feelings for Ichigo went.

I was in love with Ichigo, and he held my heart right in his hand...

Suddenly I was running. The wind hit my face as I flew down the sidewalk and across streets, and I narrowly avoided pedestrians and traveling vehicles. Curses spewed and horns honked but I paid them no mind.

I was in love…I was in love…

Adrenaline rushed through me as I raced to my apartment. I couldn't tell Ichigo immediately. I had to prepare. Yes, yes…I needed to prepare. I needed to find the perfect words, needed to stop looking like a fucking slob. As I ran I lifted my arm and smelled a pit. Needed to shower more thoroughly. There were several obstacles to jump over before I could go crawling back on my knees to Ichigo, so, so…

Saturday. I would go find him this Saturday. That'd give me plenty of time to go back to looking my best and knowing exactly what to say.

Soon I was bursting through the building doors and taking the apartment steps three at a time.

My eyes burned. I will see Ichigo on Saturday, and when I do I will absolutely, without-a-doubt win him back.

XxXxXxX

**Ichigo's POV**

Darkness.

My thoughts are often filled with darkness. It's not intended, but yet still they remain. They linger on the edges of my mind, poking me, prodding me, tempting me to do something horrible.

I hate the darkness. Everything about it sends tremors through my body. Yet, inevitably, it always finds its way back to me. It crawls through the cracks in my defenses and worms its way inside of me, leaving me cold and frozen in pain.

I'm walking. I know what my destination is, but I'm worried about the conclusion. Does Grimmjow hate me now? Did I go too far?

Have I ruined everything?

It's daytime now, and I like that. I've seen the way Grimmjow looks up at the night sky. He likes the darkness. He thrives in it.

It's weird. How he can like something I so vehemently despise, yet I don't mind at all. It's a part of who he is. He likes the night, the stars, the calm. I'm okay with that.

My thoughts are so muddled, so conflicted. I'm walking to Grimmjow's apartment as we speak, but I don't know what to say, I don't know how to fix this. All I know is that I have to do _something,_ or I may lose him forever.

It's been a week since we've spoken, a week since I took advantage of him with my slutty and whorish begging. I'm disgusting, and it disgusts me even more knowing that I showed that side of me to Grimmjow himself.

We haven't spoken, and we haven't exchanged texts. Of course, that was my fault too. I had told him not to contact me, and the moment those words had left my mouth I wanted to cringe at the horror. I missed his texts, I missed his voice. I missed learning about him and all his peculiar quirks. I wonder if he'll forgive me.

I've left the poorer side of the city and entered the area Grimmjow lives in. My hands are shoved deep into my pockets. I'm so nervous. I fucked up so badly.

Looking back on our dispute it was me who'd been in the wrong. I had gotten overzealous, anxious that he was trying to steal the one thing I had left to protect. But he didn't want to steal my baby sisters, no. He didn't want to steal them, he wanted to _protect_ them. Them and me.

And how could I argue with that?

Quitting my job, my one source of income…that had been a scary prospect. Scarier still that I'd be relying on someone other than myself. For the longest time it's just been my sisters and me, no one else. Without even realizing it Grimmjow had become a very important person to me, and that...scared me sometimes.

But just because fright ensues doesn't mean it's wrong. I know that now more than ever.

I'm walking up the stairs to his apartment now. It's a Saturday so he doesn't have work. I hope he's home. More than that I hope he's not with a woman.

Fire churns in my belly. This has happened before. I try to quell it as I usually do, but it doesn't go away.

Just like the darkness, my jealousy also remains.

I knock on his door. I can hear movement from within the apartment, and I don't realize I'm holding my breath. I shouldn't be this nervous, but god I truly, truly am.

Do I deserve to be forgiven? I treated him so cruelly. Maybe absolution is above me.

The door swings open and I'm greeted with a very well-manicured, well-dressed Grimmjow. A fire churns in my belly, but for a different reason than before. I'm almost completely thrown off-guard by how perfect he looks. The black dress pants make his thighs look great, and the blue dress shirt (oh my god the shirt matches his eyes) is tight enough to extenuate his thick muscles and flat stomach. I feel myself staring in awe at how beautiful this man before me is.

Why…Why is he dressed so nicely?

Then it dawns on me, and I feel my heart dropping out of my chest. I suddenly regret coming to see Grimmjow. I missed Grimmjow, I've missed him more than anything. But…it's clear the feeling is not mutual.

I take a shaky step backwards. It's obvious I caught Grimmjow off guard by arriving at his doorstep, and he's now regaining his senses. I don't rightly care as I spin on my heel and march back toward the stairs.

I hear Grimmjow's stumbling shoes pound on the ground after me. "Ichigo, wait!"

I didn't, but evidently it didn't matter. Grimmjow caught up to me easily and stopped me in my tracks. Both his hands clamped on my shoulders, and I unsuccessfully tried to push them off.

"Ichigo, please, let's talk."

"This was a mistake."

"Wh—," he began. He looked both confused and sad, and his bright blue eyes stared into my brown. "Why?" he finally asked, pleaded. "Please tell me why. There's so much I want to say to you Ichigo. Please tell me why."

My bottom lip trembled, and I could no longer look him in the eye. I looked down, instead to notice how clean and expensive-looking his black shoes were. He was dressed so nicely…

"You're dressed very nicely." I still didn't look up to see his reaction, but I was met with several long moments of silence.

Finally he spoke, his voice hesitant and soft, "Do you…do you not like how I'm dressed today?"

There was an easy answer to that, but I didn't say it. I merely shrugged. "It doesn't really matter what I think."

I could hear his teeth grit against each other, and the hands still on my shoulders tightened their grip. "It matters very much what you think, Ichigo. Why would you say that?"

I feel angered by his question. How could he be so oblivious? It's clear he's already moved on from me. It's clear he no longer wants me as a part of his life.

And to think I had fallen so hard for him, to think I had wanted to stay by his side for forever...I was such a fool.

My eyes at last flick up to meet his, and I could feel the fire in my gaze. "Because I think it matters more what your date thinks."

I hold my gaze with his, and he's staring at me like I'd just spoken the most foreign words he's ever heard. He looked so utterly confused. Had I not annunciated properly? Did I slur unknowingly? What was so complex about my small sentence that he didn't understand?

"Wh…What?" he uttered. The seconds ticked by, and suddenly his mouth formed into an "o" shape. He looked down at his clothing, then back up to me. His eyes were lit with understanding. "You…You think I'm dressed to go on a date."

I fight the tears that threaten to abrupt. For him to say the words out loud…it felt like such a terrible rejection.

I had never felt for anyone like I've felt for Grimmjow, and now I suddenly felt a heartbreak so foreign and lonely and horrible I wanted to crawl into a corner and wait for death. Maybe someone like me deserved this. I mean, why wouldn't I? I was disgusting, I was a joke. There was nothing even remotely noteworthy about me, so why would someone like Grimmjow Jaegerjaques want _me?_

The answer: he wouldn't.

I thrashed in Grimmjow's grip fighting for freedom. The hallway was suddenly suffocating, and I just wanted to leave. Leave and, devastatingly, never come back.

I fought against Grimmjow and he just tightened his grip. He was so much stronger than me, there was no way I could win.

"Stop, Ichigo, please, calm down!" I put my hands on his muscular chest and pushed against him fruitlessly. He continued beseechingly, "I wasn't dressed to go on a date. I was dressed to go find _you."_

My hands pause on his chest, and the words he spoke were so utterly ridiculous I almost laugh. Dressed like a god himself and it was all for _me?_ Laughable, so freaking laughable.

"Don't patronize me," I snarled, and Grimmjow finally released his hands from my shoulders. I take advantage and move to run around him, but he quickly sidesteps to block my path. Before I can protest he grabs my wrist and pulls me in the direction of his apartment.

"Gah, stop!" I demand, but I know it's useless. If Grimmjow is anything he's persistent.

I'm pulled into his apartment and I hear the door shut behind me. I'm swiftly turned around to face Grimmjow, and his eyes are sparked with deep emotion. I'm curious what he's going to say.

I tried to keep my own emotions at bay. Grimmjow has found someone else, but even so I still…I still…

He seemed to read my thoughts, and he placed his big palms on my biceps. "Ichigo, there was never anyone else. Every day this entire week has been miserable and lonely and I'm so fucking tired of it. I've missed you Ichigo, I've really really _missed_ you." Before I could even digest the fact that the words he spoke were the exact opposite of the words I'd been expecting, Grimmjow took my hand and opened it palm-up. He was treating me so gently, so reverently, like I was someone worth cherishing.

He held my palm in his. "Do you know what you hold in this hand, Ichigo?"

I was confused. I numbly shook my head.

His gaze never left mine. "You hold the key to my heart."

My breath caught in my throat. What...?

Did he just say I, I hold the key…to his heart…?

I felt so overwhelmed and my brain slammed to a halt to deliberate what had just happened.

The moment I first greeted Grimmjow at his door to now rewinded and replayed itself in my head. I had initially assumed he was dressed to go on a date, but in reality he'd…he'd been dressed to go find _me?_ Was that possible? Was I misinterpreting? Did Grimmjow really…did Grimmjow really feel that way about me?

I continued staring into his eyes. His gaze was so imploring, so desperate. I'd never seen Grimmjow so desperate.

My voice was barely a raspy whisper. "R…Really?"

He gave me a beautiful, heart-wrenching smile then, and he nodded. "Yeah, really."

He took the palm he was still holding and lightly kissed it. Flames burst through my hand and spread all over my body. How could Grimmjow have such a lasting effect on me? It was insane, it was so fucking insane.

He continued. "And I don't want you to apologize for what happened from…before. I took advantage of you. It's me who was in the wrong."

He speaks to me with such conviction. He _truly_ finds me innocent. He's so good to me.

Grimmjow puts me on a pedestal I don't belong on, but I can't help but cherish each moment I'm with him. He makes me feel safe, happy…treasured.

It is such a foreign feeling. Such a great feeling.

Before I could argue Grimmjow took another breath and started again. "And I'm sorry for suggesting you move in with me. I know that was crazy and scary and horrible for you, and as long as you don't want it I won't offer it again."

He took another step toward me, close enough that I had to bend my neck slightly to look up at him. I could almost see my reflection in the blue of his eyes.

He still held my hand, but he resituated it until our palms aligned and fingers overlapped; our hands now clasped one another's.

His gaze spoke of strict purpose, and his voice was unbending. "But please, please consider what I said about quitting your job. No matter how strong you are prostitution isn't _safe._ You could get really hurt, and I don't want to see you hurt. I know you have to take care of your sisters and pay bills and shit, but you can use my money until you get yourself a better-paying job. Hell, if you want you can even pay me back, but _please_ just..."

I inadvertently zoned out. He was being so kind of me. I've never seen _anyone_ go so drastically out of their way just to see me happy.

And I'd been wrong. Grimmjow didn't have another date, another woman in his life. He only had…me. Grimmjow had chosen _me._

Throughout my life this world has shattered me, but Grimmjow is the one person that wants to see me whole. Every day I'm with him I see him gluing my pieces back together. He didn't want me as a damaged prostitute. He didn't want me on my knees sucking him off. He wanted…me.

And that felt weird.

I took a step forward. Grimmjow abruptly stopped talking. I was entering immensely unfamiliar territory, but I was going to try and do my best to make this right.

I reached out and lightly clutched Grimmjow's wrist. I carried it to my lips and gently kissed his palm, as he had done with mine.

I could feel his blue-eyed gaze burn into me, and I knew he was staring in what was probably awe.

But this felt right. This was how I wanted to portray myself to him right now. I'm not holding a grudge with him, and I'm not angry with him. Actually on the contrary I…I…

I spoke, still holding his wrist to my mouth. "What happened before…I'm sorry. I reacted out of fear. I was ashamed, scared, cynical." I loved the way my lips continuously brushed against his skin as I spoke. "I was ruled by all the ugly emotions I wish I didn't have."

I swallowed nervously, finally looking up to meet Grimmjow's eyes. Their blue depths portrayed such adoration and understanding. It almost felt like his emotions alone would swallow me whole.

Grimmjow took another step forward, and our chests were almost flush against each other. He took his hand back to run it through my hair.

"Ichigo, you, you…you drive me so fucking crazy."

I didn't know what to say to that. Did I admit that he made me feel the same way? That when I go to bed at night it's not the pain of my job that I feel but the happiness I receive from Grimmjow? That when I'm with my clients I escape into my mind and imagine Grimmjow doing all those things to me?

I wanted to say both everything and nothing. I merely leaned forward a few inches to sprinkle a kiss onto his collarbone.

He didn't once move his gaze from mine. "I like you, Ichigo. A lot. Do you like me?"

My nervous swallow was audible this time. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and I nodded. "I do."

A large, careful hand reached for my chin, and he tipped my head up. The hand holding me was shaking. "Can I kiss you?"

I loved how he asked me. He wanted to make sure it was okay, that I was okay.

But I didn't even need to think about it as I spoke breathily, "Yes."

The distance between us closed. Our lips met and everything I'd ever loved about Grimmjow was vastly brought to the forefront of my mind. He was so gentle, so caring. He wanted the best for me while the rest of the world wanted me on my knees. He liked the darkness but all he ever led me to was the light.

I was shattered, but Grimmjow has made me whole.

I hesitantly inched my tongue out, licking lightly against his upper lip. He immediately responded, opening his mouth to let me venture inside.

I had never allowed my clients to kiss me. The only time I was ever kissed was when I was being raped, being degraded. Kissing would always bring with it so many horrible thoughts.

But not now. My first consensual kiss was with Grimmjow, and I oddly hoped it remained like that for the rest of my life.

Both of his hands wound their fingers into my hair. I held on to him like a lifeline.

In the week I'd been away I did a lot of soul-searching. Grimmjow had offered for my sisters and me to stay with him, for the four of us to be one family.

If his offer is still on the table…then I'd accept it.

I pull away from his lips. It's still so foreign to think I _enjoy_ kissing. But I do. I really do.

As long as it's Grimmjow.

I can see the dull rejection and uncertainty in his expression he does so well masking. I had pulled away from him, and now he was insecure.

Who would've thought, the great _Grimmjow Jaegerjaques_ can feel insecure.

"Grimmjow," I said, swallowing nervously. I could feel the palms of my hands light with perspiration. Now I am the insecure one. "I know this is sudden but, if you're still offering, I…I would very much like to live with you."

There was a moment of silence, and his blue eyes widened as my words sunk in. He'd stood stockstill, but suddenly he was vibrant. He kissed me, more desperately this time, and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

With each kiss he pecked onto my lips words were spoken lightning fast. "Oh my god you won't regret this I'll cherish you forever I'll keep all of you safe I swear on my life." The last kiss lasted the longest, and I savored it more than I've ever savored anything. This moment felt safe, this moment felt _right._

I didn't want this moment to end.

Our lips parted, and Grimmjow got jittery in my grasp. He stepped back and started pacing around the living room.

"Have you asked Karin and Yuzu about it? Because I think they'd be okay with it but I can't know for sure ya know? Maybe the apartment won't be good enough for them oh fuck I need to clean. Or maybe we should get a different apartment, a bigger one. We're gonna be four people so it'll definitely need to be bigger. Oh my gosh or we could get a _house_ , somewhere that's _ours_ oh fuck oh shit so much shit to do where should we start—"

I was directly in front of him now and I silenced him with my lips. I wanted to laugh at him because of how ridiculous he was being.

He instantly relaxed into my touch, and I soon released him. "Chill the hell out, will you?" I asked with a calm smirk.

He just stared at me then ran a hand through his vibrant blue hair, laughing giddily. "Yeah, yeah sorry. I'm good now."

I smiled. He was so happy. Have I ever seen him this happy? I didn't think so.

I hadn't asked my sisters yet, but I was certain it wouldn't be a problem. Yuzu has been infatuated with Grimmjow for years, and Karin had taken a mysterious liking for him.

I absently had a feeling they encountered each other at some point.

I watched Grimmjow with awe, and I noticed his facial features change. His eyes widened and he lighted grasped my wrist.

"Ichigo, I just remembered…" I cocked an eyebrow at him, and his gaze burned into mine. "I'm moving."

My heart felt like it skipped a beat. "…What?"

He took both my hands in his and held them to his chest. "Stark…he said I'd be moving back to my original branch soon. In Kyoto."

I waited for him to say more, wondering if this was some cruel, disgusting joke.

With his gaze still on mine he brought my hands up and kissed my knuckles. "Ichigo…would you so graciously join me?"

I couldn't describe to you my exact expression in that moment, but whatever it was Grimmjow's face lit up like a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. I only nodded, sure that words would fail me, and he took me into his strong arms. His chest was so broad, so encompassing, and I felt safe in his embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered softly into my ear. It felt like it should be me doing the thanking.

He pulled away and cupped my cheeks in his palms. His palms were so big, so warm.

He stared into my eyes, gaze serious now. "So you're…so you're done…right? Completely?"

Done with prostitution. He was asking if I was done with prostitution, with selling myself to other men for money.

It was a scary thought, but it was also freeing. I'd sold myself to save my sisters, but now someone else was here. This new person could enter my life and change everything for the better.

In the past I would've been hesitant. The thought of trusting someone else would've been repulsive and impossible. Now, though…it was fine as long as it was Grimmjow.

I nodded. "Yeah…completely."

His responding smile made me smile. A loud curse sounded near Grimmjow's apartment door, but we ignored it. It was probably some drunkard that accidentally hit the wall. I didn't care.

It was clear Grimmjow didn't either, because not a moment later he was pulling me into his arms, bringing his lips to mine.

XxXxXxX 

Time became ambiguous and a blur of confusion. I couldn't keep up, so I just let it happen. My lips were burning from the warmth of Grimmjow's body heat, and my entire body was on fire.

We were on the couch in Grimmjow's living room and stayed there for hours. Everything was hazy and elusive and happy. I didn't understand what was happening, but I had no reason to complain.

Time passed and happiness could not describe the emotion I felt. The contentment and bliss I felt when by Grimmjow's side could not be categorized under such a trivial word.

With Grimmjow everything was…perfect. Absolutely, utterly perfect.

Grimmjow was cooking dinner now, and I stared out a window. It had gotten dark in the time I'd spent with Grimmjow.

I looked up into the night sky. The stars weren't out yet, and all throughout the sky was a canvas of black. Not even the city lights from below could fully illuminate the darkness.

For so long I had hated the darkness. It was too mysterious, too dangerous. In the darkness I was fucked, molested, raped. But the darkness has also awarded me soft kisses on my scars, safe embraces, and a welcoming home that wanted me to flourish.

With the closing of a door another has opened. Grimmjow has taught me to appreciate the darkness and the protective cocoon it can act as. I guess you could say he's…purified it? That was the only way I could describe all he's done for me. Grimmjow has purified the darkness. Both in the sky and in my own soul.

Warm arms wrapped around me from behind. I turned my head to see Grimmjow leaning his beside my own. Our lips met, and I melted into his touch.

Time became ambiguous and elusive again, and I lost myself in the man that was Grimmjow.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Nnoitra isn’t quite done being gross/evil, but Grimm is about to shut him up real quick :D**

**And gracious, 11 chapters in and we _still_ don't know a lot about Ichigo's past. That'll change soon, so come back next chapter! ^_^ Thank you all for reading and thank you all for the lovely reviews! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Alas. I'm a nurse on a COVID unit and life has been crazy, so I apologize (yes nurses are pervs too hehe). This has been a great reprieve from real life though. I've enjoyed writing!**

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**On to Chapter 12! Enjoy! :)**

**XxXxXxXxX**

I woke up to warmth. It was a mysterious warmth, one I was strangely, intensely drawn to. It felt…fuck. It felt really, really nice.

Curious, I opened my eyes to see Ichigo lying against me. I laid on my back while Ichigo was nestled into my side.

He was awake, and he looked like he had been for a while. At some point while I slept Ichigo had pulled my shirt up, and he was lazily tracing my stomach with a finger. My heart soared, and I didn't move, just enjoying the moment as I watched him.

Memories of last night flooded back to me, and I felt so fucking happy I couldn't think straight. His beautiful hair, flawless skin, plump lips. They'd all been _mine._ But what I'd wanted more than anything he had also given me. He'd given me his heart.

And I would cherish it the way I'd come to cherish Ichigo himself.

I ran a light hand through Ichigo's bright hair. Ichigo was perfect. There was no other way to describe him; any word inferior to that wouldn't do him justice. Everything about him was just that: perfect.

The silence stretched on, but it was a comfortable silence. Ichigo traced intricate patterns on my abdomen and torso, and I watched him in silent awe. He was just so fucking perfect.

"Grimmjow," he said eventually, finger still continuing its endless motion.

I liked the way he said my name. "Hm?"

He stared at my torso. "You are ridiculously muscular."

I snorted in humor. "I guess its just part of my natural build. Be jealous."

"How tall are you?"

I answered, "6'4"."

A silent pause, then: "I am indeed jealous."

I laughed, genuinely amused as I squeezed him tighter to my body. "How tall are you?"

Another pause. "5'11"."

I didn't mind that in the slightest. In fact, I liked it better that way. If we were standing side-by-side, it'd be so easy to just place his nose into the crook of my neck. More than that, lying down like this, he sits nicely against my chest, his head resting on a peck. He fits my body so well.

I kissed the top of his head, feeling the orange strands against my face. He still wasn't wearing a shirt ever since I took it off of him last night, and I rubbed along his bare back. "I think 5'11" is a beautiful height."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I don't think height can be beautiful."

I blinked. That was a valid point, but I also noticed something else. How often did I used to throw around a word like "beautiful?" It used to be nonexistent in my vocabulary. It was too fucking girly. But, now, I was using that word all the time to describe Ichigo.

Was I becoming some kind of girl? Was I becoming _too_ obsessed with Ichigo?

Barely a second later and I tossed the thought aside. No such thing.

I nodded. "Yeah…you're probably right."

Ichigo turned his head, now looking up at me. I fully met his gaze, extraordinarily content in this moment.

He stared for a long time, longer than I thought he would. Then he said something I also had not expected.

"Your eyes are really blue."

What got me was how blatantly he said it. It was so matter-of-fact, like he was commenting on the news or the weather.

He's texted about my eyes before. He had told me that I converted his favorite color from green to blue. He had told me he enjoys the daytime, and when he looks up at the sky it reminds him of me.

I remember reading those words and turning red from head to toe. Even if someone had slapped me it wouldn't have wiped the impossibly wide smile off my face.

I just stared back at him in surprise, almost self-conscious now as he looked into my "really blue" eyes.

He reached up and gave the barest of touches to my head. "They match the blue of your hair."

His fingers ran through my hair, and I intrinsically leaned into the touch. "Is that a bad thing?"

Ichigo offered the smallest of smiles. "Not at all."

There was a weird tingling sensation in my belly, and I felt unbearably treasured. I had never felt that before.

Was what he had said something normal people said? Nobody had ever talked about my eyes and hair like…that before.

My cheeks were flaming. Normal or not it felt incredibly, incredibly good.

My hand reached out, lightly brushing against his cheek. "Did you know your eyes have two colors?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "No they don't."

"But they do," I argued, my finger trailing below his eyes and along the bridge of his nose. "Your brown eyes have tints of gold in them."

He blinked, genuinely astonished. He muttered, "Really? I never noticed…"

"Do you know what I call them in my head?"

He shot me a look of confusion and absolute ludicrousness. "You _call_ them something?"

I nodded with a smile, my eyes never leaving his. "Chocolate and caramel."

Ichigo's mouth opened and closed, and his dumbfounded look was adorable. "I…Y-You…What?"

I barked out a laugh, and his cheeks flamed with a red so bright it almost matched his hair.

"Asshole," he hissed in adorable mortification as he left my side and sat up in the bed. My chest was cold, and my body immediately missed his warmth.

I tugged on his forearm, flipping onto my side so my body could follow his. "Nooo, don't gooo."

Ichigo laughed lightly, and I already didn't regret sounding like an idiot for him.

He continued his attempts to escape, pulling with all his strength. Both my arms were wrapped around his thin hips now, and I was potentially in the most comfortable position I've ever been in.

Ichigo pulled at my arms, leaning to try to get out. This whole thing was so light-hearted, so playful, and I couldn't wrap my head around the fact I was _here,_ with _Ichigo._ God, I was so fucking happy. That one week without him had been one of the worst weeks of my life.

We continued fighting against each other playfully, and it wasn't long until Ichigo had burned himself out. He was out of breath, and I could tell his attempts were slowly dwindling in strength. He was lying on his back with my arms wrapped around him when he finally admitted defeat. He huffed out, "Okay, okay. I get it, y-you win. Now will you let me go?"

I smirked. "No."

Ichigo groaned, his own arms trapped in my grip.

_"What_ do I have to do to get you off of me?"

I smiled a feral grin, but from my location around his waist he couldn't see it. "Will you do something for me?"

He made one last attempt and heaved forward, almost falling off the bed and onto the floor. He panted, "Anything."

He seemed to realize what he said then, but I wouldn't let him take it back. I licked along his jaw, my saliva leaving its mark. "Goood."

His entire body froze, and I could distinctly hear as he swallowed audibly. "Oh god. What have I done…" He mumbled, but by his expression I could tell he wasn't genuinely scared. Thankfully, he knew better.

My grin was still wild with excitement. "Oh, it's nothing bad. Just a… personal request."

Ichigo groaned in apprehension, and I maneuvered so I could better see his face. I climbed onto Ichigo and placed my body fully onto his. Thank the _gods_ for his shorter height, because merely being in this position made me hard as fuck. If our crotches had aligned I wouldn't have been able to control myself. At all.

I looked into his eyes, and I sobered up. I had an important question to ask, and I had to ask it right. My features displayed curiosity and a pinch of hopefulness. "Ichigo…" My eyes were penetrating, smoldering with intensity. "May I masturbate to you?"

Time seemed to stop as the question sunk in. Ichigo's eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them, and his cheeks were the reddest I was sure they'd ever been in his entire life. After several, long moments of silence he finally sputtered out a shocked, "W-W- _What?"_

I repeated the question, and he immediately grabbed the nearest pillow and beat me with it. I had to put all my effort into not smiling like a maniac, and soon I was pulling the pillow from his hands. He tried to snatch it back, but I threw it across the room.

I couldn't help but stare into his eyes as I contemplated all the things I admired about him. But, then, there was also the one thing I hated about him.

His pain.

My elbows held me up on either side of his body, and one of my hands reached out to feel the velvety smoothness of Ichigo's cheek. I spoke in a softer, more sobered voice. "You turn me on like no one ever has, but I hate how much you've been through. We're not ready to take the next step and it feels wrong to…think about you like that without permission."

Ichigo was mortified, and he refused to meet my gaze, cheeks still flaming. He covered a hand to his face. "I cannot believe you're asking me this."

He was trying to shield his embarrassment, and I pulled the hand away from his face. My playfulness came back. "So whadda say, can I think about you while I play with my penis?" My dick twitched at the question, and I absently wondered if Ichigo could feel it against his thigh.

Once again he seemed absolutely speechless, and he barely gasped out a, "No, _n-no."_ He was still fighting against my grip, but I refused to let go.

Our physical, playful brawl began again, and our positions changed. He was fighting to escape my question, and I was fighting to keep him pinned so he could answer my question.

We ultimately ended our skirmish sitting upright. I was situated directly behind him, and both my hands kept his behind his back, completely immobile. I had never been much of a bondage person, but seeing him like this—bare torso, perky nipples, chest pushed out with arms bound behind him…I could get used to this.

I could _definitely_ get used to this.

I placed my face beside his ear, so close my lips brushed against his skin. I felt his whole body shiver at the contact.

"Pretty please?" I whispered seductively.

He gulped nervously, and I felt his body quake under my touch.

With a single hand I kept both of his clasped behind his back. I used the other to reach around his body, my fingers dipping under the legs of his boxers to wisp along his inner thigh.

_"Ah,"_ Ichigo gasped, squirming under me. Fuck, I was so hard.

My head was situated just beside his, and if I bent forward I had a clear view of his silky smooth neck.

Nnoitra's words rang through my head. _"Ichigo's neck is real sensitive. If you kiss and nibble on it you're guaranteed to get a reaction from him."_

I could feel my heart racing against my chest. Oh gods. I…I have been waiting for this for so long. I'd had multiple opportunities in the recent past, but I was always too scared to follow through.

I gulped, hormones raging through me as I bent down and took his neck into my mouth.

"Nng- _ahh!"_ His reaction was immediate, and I could tell he was trying to subdue it. That was something I would _not_ allow, and I ground my teeth against his skin. He moaned my name, and the sexy, fucking _sexy_ noises he was making under me went straight to my cock. I greedily nibbled and kneaded at his flesh, soaking up every groan and gasp that escaped his plump lips.

Nnoitra was right, as much as I hated to say that. Ichigo's neck was _damn_ fucking sensitive. I just hated how Nnoitra discovered it before me.

I'd make damn sure I'm the _last_ to discover it.

I let go, and I moved to breathe lightly into his ear. "So…" My tongue lashed out. "May I?"

Ichigo's chest was heaving up and down, his entire body glittering with sweat as he wriggled and writhed beneath me. His mouth was open in a wordless plea, and finally he nodded, his head bobbing shakily in affirmation. "Y-Yeah, ah, fine." He was breathing heavily. "Ju-just _stop_ what you're doing. _Ah._ "

Ichigo had a tent in his boxers, and it did nothing but fuel me to do more. Knowing he was aroused made me so much more fucking aroused than I thought was even fucking possible.

I nibbled on his ear lobe, keeping my voice low and seductive. "Thank you for your permission, but why would I do that?" After all, that wasn't part of the deal.

Ichigo writhed, his mouth open in a wordless moan. His legs squirmed, and I allowed my hand on his thigh to travel a little bit higher…

Two shrill dings went off back-to-back from across the room, and my hand stopped in its tracks. It was a text tone that wasn't mine, and I looked to Ichigo. He was gazing in the direction of where the noise originated. His face screamed "I'm so horny," but it also read, "fuck, I still have to get that."

"I-I have to get that," Ichigo voiced, and he didn't sound pleased with it.

At least that made me happy. I hoped Ichigo was having just as much fun as I was.

I moved aside and scooted gingerly on the bed. My cock was so goddamn engorged with blood just existing made it ache with the need for release. It was obvious, too. The tent in my boxers was huge.

I watched Ichigo's ass as he climbed out of bed, and that tent got a little bit bigger.

He walked toward the discarded jeans that had been thrown off last night, and I couldn't help but also gaze at the scars that adorned his body. They still made me so angry. When would my rage finally fade?

I remembered kissing them all what felt like forever ago, and I longed to do it again.

I watched as Ichigo viewed his ancient-looking cellphone, the lower portion of his face lit up by the LED light. It made his eyes shine brilliantly, and I couldn't look away.

His features gradually morphed into something else, though, and those beautiful eyes became thinly laced with fear. His eyeballs went back and forth, as if re-reading and viewing whatever it was over and over.

A chill ran down my spine. "What is it, Ichigo?"

His gaze never left the screen. The hands holding the phone were trembling, and I decided I'd had enough. I scooted off the bed to walk in his direction.

His head jerked up as if he hadn't even heard me, and he quickly closed his phone, putting it back in the jeans pocket.

My suspicions increased, and my expression grew grim. "Who was that, Ichigo?" I asked, speaking more harshly than I intended. "What's going on?"

He took a step away from me, and I took a step forward. He kept backing up, and he squeaked in surprise when he hit the wall. I wasted no time in towering over him, trapping him as I planted my forearms on either side of his head. "Who?" I asked, and I was not going to ask again.

He looked up at me, and I watched a shiver run through him. "I-It was Nnoitra. He, He—"

A shrill ding went off again, once again coming from Ichigo's phone. At this point I felt like I was going to explode with rage and fear and everything horrible. I got off Ichigo and surged myself in the direction of his phone.

"No, please!" Ichigo cried out, and it was the most desperate, frightened sound I'd ever heard come out of his mouth. It cemented me to the floor and not a second later his chest rammed into my back, his arms wrapping tightly around my torso.

"Please…" he whispered.

It felt like I couldn't speak, like I couldn't breathe. I could barely utter the small word, "Why…?"

The shrill ding sounded once again, but I didn't move. I just waited for Ichigo to say something, _anything._

"Nn-Nnoitra's…not a g-good person."

I was trying to decipher the meaning hidden behind his words. I turned my head and could vaguely see his face cowering in my shirt. I growled, "I know. He's a fucking pervert. He's fucking disgusting. Fuck, he fucking had sex with you when you were fucking fourteen."

Ichigo flinched violently against my back. "How do you know that?!"

"He told me."

Ichigo cried out, "He _told_ you?"

His voice was so alarmed, so broken, and more tendrils of fear shot through me. I turned around, moving his body so I could hold him at arms-length. I looked into his now desolate, dark eyes. "Ichigo, please…tell me what's going on."

"N-Nnoitra…" He brought an arm up and placed a hand over his eyes, shielding me from their emotion. "Nnoitra threatened that if I ever leave him he'll…he'll…" His chest heaved, and he barely contained a sob.

Before I could respond or even try to remotely understand a shrill ding rang through the room again, and this time I didn't leave it be. I had wanted to. I had wanted to respect Ichigo's need for privacy and explaining things at his own pace, but my fear for him overrode that. I shot my body across the room like my life depended on it, and Ichigo barely uttered a gasp before I held the phone in my hand, searching frantically for the source of this madness.

All the texts were from Nnoitra. The first one read: _"You leave me for Grimmjow and I will make ur world a livin' nightmare."_

I grit my teeth in blinded fury. He dared to threaten _my_ Ichigo?

I wanted to yell, to scream at the whole world, but I held my tongue and kept scrolling. What I saw next would be forever burned into my memory.

The next text was a picture. It was of a youthful-looking Ichigo who looked fourteen, maybe fifteen, and harsh tears trailed down his cheeks. He was naked, and his arms were shackled to the head of the bed. Rope wrapped tightly around Ichigo's legs, and it secured the back of his thighs to the back of his calves, locking them in place. The rope was then secured to the head of the bed, keeping his legs forcibly spread.

His position was so disgusting, so degrading, and my entire stomach churned. I wanted to kill something, I wanted to _slaughter someone,_ but what I noticed next made me want to die.

Between his spread legs was a vibrator churning in his butthole. A device was also wrapped around his penis, a contraption very similar to what I'd seen on him not so long ago…

Before I could regain my senses or move on to the next text a strong force rammed into me, and the phone was knocked from my hand and thrown onto the floor. "Don't look at that!" Ichigo had screamed, and he flung his arms around my shoulders, sobbing into my neck. "Pl-Please please, stop looking. Please don't be d-disgusted, please don't laugh. P-Please, I didn't mean to let it happen, please…"

The immeasurable desperation in his voice forced a sob out of me as well, and I wasn't even thinking as I wrapped my arms around him so tightly he'd probably have trouble breathing.

What had I just seen? What the _fuck_ had I just _seen?_ I could barely wrap my head around the fact that was Ichigo. He truly had to deal with that all those years ago? But he'd been just a fucking _kid, that was so beyond not fucking okay._

And Nnoitra...Nnoitra had done this? Nnoitra had been the one taking the picture and witnessing Ichigo in such a demeaning position? That wasn't Ichigo being a prostitute. No…that was Ichigo being _raped._ Violently and horribly degraded with no one there to save him. No one at all…

Ichigo was trembling in my arms, and I felt his cold tears smear into my neck. "I-I d-don't know how h-he found o-out. The o-only thing I can think of is that h-he must've followed me here, a-and _heard_ me saying I'd s-stay with you. Probably heard I-I'd be done with pro-prostitution." Ichigo barely shrugged against me. "P-Probably he didn't like that."

I hugged Ichigo tighter to me. With each tear I shed my rage increased tenfold. I was crying, but at the same time I was too angry to cry. Nnoitra…Nnoitra would _pay_ for what he's done, and if I could help it he would pay with his life.

"Ichigo, no matter what…I will protect you." I squeezed him tighter to me. My voice was dark, and more serious than it's ever been. "I promise."

XxXxXxX

I held Ichigo for another hour before exhaustion finally hit him. His body went slack in my arms, and I took a moment to cradle him close. I stared at him, lightly running my fingers through his hair. How many people did he allow to see him like this? So vulnerable...so peaceful.

I cradled him close to me and carried him into the bedroom. Carefully, so so carefully, I placed him on the bed and tucked him under the covers. I knew I needed to leave, but I couldn't stop myself from staring at him for a moment longer. I observed his long eyelashes, petite nose, plump lips, strong jaw line. Everything about him was so beautiful. Both inside and out he was perfect. So fucking perfect...

I grit my teeth and left the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I swiped my keys off the counter before surging out of the apartment, being sure to lock it behind me.

I ran down the four flights of steps and in mere seconds was throwing myself into the driver's seat of my black Aston Martin.

Nnoitra thought he could blackmail Ichigo? Nnoitra thought he could blackmail Ichigo _and get away with it?!_

Well then...I'd prove him wrong.

I veered out of the parking lot and surged forward, driving to the address I knew Nnoitra lived at. I hoped Nnoitra was home. How could I turn him into a deceased pile of limbs and flesh if he wasn't where I wanted him?

Turned out it wasn't a problem. I climbed the flights of stairs, went straight to his door, and five seconds after I rang the doorbell he appeared before me.

He grinned happily, "Hey Grimmie, what brings ya here—"

He was on the ground before he could say any more. He grunted and cursed as he hit the tile floor with a thud, and I invited myself into the area, closing the door behind me.

I stared down at the man huddled on the ground like a drunken lowlife. My eyes glowed with malice as he looked up at me. "You blackmailed Ichigo."

Nnoitra tsked, spitting blood onto the tile. "So he blabbed, huh? Figures. Never expected a slut like him to be able to take care of himse-"

My fist hit his face and his head hit the ground. He groaned, cradling the back of his head with a bloody hand. Blood dribbled down his nose and onto his upper lip.

"What the _fuck,_ man," he hissed at me. "Ya think ya can just _get away_ with beating the shit outta me? Yeah right—"

Echoes reverberated off the walls as his head once again collided with the floor. His groans grew louder and more pain-filled with each hit.

I stood tall before him. "I didn't come here to debate with you, and I sure as fuck didn't come here to make a deal with you. Stay away from Ichigo."

Nnoitra cackled, but it didn't have the same air of confidence it usually did. "Oh yeah? Or what?"

"Or I will end you."

The gulp Nnoitra's throat produced was audible. I remained steady, glaring down at him with bruised knuckles and an expression that promised vengeance. I hoped I was placing the fear of god in him. Or at the very least, the fear of _me._

Several moments of silence resumed before he finally spoke. "D-Do...Do ya wanna know about his past?"

That threw me off-kilter a little bit. Was he trying to bribe me by sharing pieces of Ichigo's past to me? That it may sway the odds in his favor?

Whatever look I had on my face must have given him hope, because he was now grinning wickedly. He thought he had won me over. Funny.

"Yes," I nodded, taking one step closer to him. "In fact, I want to know everything about his past. Every single minute detail offered to me." I crouched down until we were at eye level, and my expression shifted. He was no longer smiling. "But it's not you I want to hear it from."

Once again my fists were meeting flesh, over and over and over again until my hands went numb. I was so angry, so fucking _furious._ Why did Nnoitra have to exist? Why did Ichigo have to go through everything he did? Why did the world have to be the way it was, full of pain and agony and perversions so beyond my comprehension?

Eventually I stopped, and Nnoitra's face was left a bloodied, swollen mass. He was still conscious, which honestly surprised me.

"Soon Ichigo and I will be leaving the city. I'll be going back at my original branch." Nnoitra's breath was raspy, and his beady dark eyes watched me. "If I ever, _ever_ see your ugly face again," I growled. "I will pluck your eyeballs from your skull, and sew your lips to your gums."

I sifted through his pants pockets until I found his phone. I stood and crushed the device under my foot, making sure the SIM card got crushed in the process.

I tossed it aside and crouched back in front of him, my face mere inches from him. "Do we have an understanding between us now, Nnoitra?"

My close proximity must have frightened him, and he whimpered, closing his eyes tightly. He nodded curtly. "Y-Yeah," he slurred through his busted lip. "W-We g-got an un-understandin'."

And that was all I needed. I stood and left the building, leaving him in a puddle of his own blood. He was hurt to hell, but he wouldn't die. Unfortunately.

I checked my watch, noting that two hours had passed. I hoped Ichigo was still asleep by the time I got home.

But, of course, it's rare that luck is in my favor, isn't it?

Damn it.

**XxXxXxX**

**Anyone think an angry Ichigo would be a cute Ichigo? I think soXD**

**  
Just to kind of put the new story on people's radar. It will be a similar concept as this one. Angsty/BadPastIchigo/ProtectiveGrimmjow. In my own opinion so faarrr...I kind of like it better than Purify the Darkness? It seems to have more depth, more angst. Ichigo is a badass bartender, Grimmjow is a badass yakuza.  
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**I also think I keep to their personalities better in the new story. Less OOC. But we shall see if people agree! ;) Not posting it quite yet!  
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Thanks to everyone who has made it this far! ^_^


	13. Chapter 13

**I apologize this was a few days later than anticipated! Busy weekend. But we’re back! :D**

**Part fluff, part super angst: commence Chapter 13!**

**XxXxXxXxX**

I walked up the stairs to my apartment with unbearable dread. I'd been gone two hours, _two hours,_ and the likelihood of Ichigo being asleep was incredibly slim. Make that incredibly impossible.

And goddamn it, I'd been so selfish. Ichigo's _phobia._ He must've been devastated waking up by himself. Did he wake up scared, worried? I didn't know what caused his phobia, but I sure as hell wanted to keep him safe from it. What kind of asshole _was I?_

On the fourth set of steps I sent a quick prayer to a man I didn't believe in. If he could save me from the wrath that was Ichigo now would be the time.

I was at my door, and I pulled my keys from my pocket. I couldn't hear anything beyond the wood, and I almost let myself believe maybe Ichigo was asleep after all.

I put the key in the knob, turning the lock and opening the door.

Just as I entered Ichigo was on his feet, once occupying the living room sofa I always liked. His eyes scanned and scrutinized every crevice of my being, his expression an infinite mixture of horror, anger, and worry.

It was only now I realized I probably should've tried to get the blood out of my clothes before coming here.

"What the fuck, Grimmjow?" He began immediately, marching out of the living room and toward where I still stood at the door. He was angry, but he was so much more, too. The way he was looking at me made it clear he was scared as hell that some of the blood on me was _mine._

I loved that he was worried about me, but I also wanted to ease his concern.

I lifted my hands up as though enforcing innocence. "Ichigo, before you say anything, I can explain."

He was checking my blood-covered hand, pulling at my clothes, looking underneath to find the blood's origin. His dark, angry eyes glanced at my own before continuing his inspection. "Okay, go ahead."

Well...fuck. I hadn't been expecting him to answer so levelly. I…I didn't actually have an explanation.

"Uhh…"

Some of Ichigo's lethality dwindled since his assessment had proven me unharmed, but the glare he sent me demonstrated he still wasn't fucking around. I gulped.

He scanned my bloodied shirt. "Is this Nnoitra's blood?"

I didn't really like the answer I had to give him, but I never, ever wanted to lie to Ichigo. "…Yes."

"And you beat him up because of the texts?"

"Yes."

Ichigo sighed deeply, as if pondering. Some of the tightness in his jaw and shoulders had gone lax. He looked more at ease than he did a few moments ago.

Then I watched him rear back his arm and punch me square in the face. I stumbled back but didn't fall, my hand immediately reaching up and stroking the site of injury.

 _"Ow,_ fuck."

He took a step forward, and I was surprised I didn't flinch. He threw one hell of a punch.

He tilted his head up and lightly touched his lips to mine. It was a chaste, but amazingly deep, kiss, and I savored every second. I forgot about the throbbing in my cheek.

We parted, and I absently licked my lips to taste more of Ichigo's essence.

"Thank you, Grimm," he whispered, our faces close enough I could feel his breath on my mouth.

"You're so fucking welcome." I reached down and stole his lips for one more kiss.

"So I'm guessing Nnoitra won't be…bothering us anymore?"

I ran a finger over the soft skin of his cheek. "That's exactly right, kitten. He won't bother you ever again."

For the first time since Nnoitra's texts, Ichigo smiled contently.

And that made everything so fucking worth it.

**2 Months Later**

We were back in Kyoto now. Oh fuck, how glad I'd been to leave that godforsaken city. And to leave that fucking _Nnoitra._ I mean fucking fuck.

I absently smiled as my lips brushed against Ichigo's. Everything that had been happening these past several weeks felt like it'd come from the inside of a romance novel or fairytale. I was working at my old branch again, there was no Nnoitra, and Ichigo, Karin, Yuzu, and I now lived together in a spacious two-story house together. I didn't know if outsiders would think it was a weird setup but, to me, it was the most amazing thing I'd ever done in my life.

It was a Saturday, and Ichigo and I had been making out for half an hour when the ding of Ichigo's phone interrupted us.

Our lips, once touching, now parted, and I couldn't push down the sudden anxiety that filled my chest. Every time Ichigo got a text during our more amorous activities I got nervous it'd be from fucking _Nnoitra._ He didn't have another client bugging him again, threatening him again, right?

We'd bought him another phone, we changed his cell number, there was _no way, right?_

Ichigo turned over on the bed and grabbed his cell off the nightstand. After a moment, with no signs of distress on his face I noted, he stood and started pulling on jeans. He explained, "It's Karin. She's almost done with karate class."

I withheld the need to sigh in relief. I lay back on the bed contently, resting on my arms as I unashamedly watched him dress. Ichigo has gained more muscle since we moved to Kyoto. I had a feeling he'd been sacrificing what little money he had to prioritize his sisters over himself.

Now, though? I made sure he was eating pretty much every time I saw him.

I smirked. "It's cute you think you need to walk her home when the dojo's only three blocks away." Karin has karate classes every Saturday, and he refuses to let her walk the distance alone.

I had an odd feeling his paranoia wasn't misplaced, though. Worse yet, I had a feeling it was because so many things had happened to him on those dangerous streets…

I refused to let my mood darken, though, and I watched as Ichigo pouted adorably, his cheeks lightly tinted. I chuckled at that, and I climbed out of the bed to stand beside him.

I turned his head up with a finger and kissed the tip of his nose. "Don't be embarrassed, kitten," I said, voice lowering. "It's one of the billion things I like about you."

His cheeks were bright bright red now, and he pushed my hand away. I cackled at how embarrassed he looked, and he just turned his head, busying himself with tossing on jeans and one of my t-shirts.

We walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs. Yuzu was in the kitchen flipping through a recipe book I bought her. Her face lit up when she saw us.

"Ichi-nii, Grimmie, what do y'all want for dinner? Karin said she didn't want fish."

I smiled. _Grimmie._ Nnoitra used to call me that and I despised him for it every time. But with Yuzu…I kinda liked it. She could call me whatever she damn well pleased.

Ichigo grabbed his jacket off the coatrack and shrugged it on, looking at Yuzu. "Anything you make will be great, Yuzu. You know I like everything."

She flipped through her cookbook with fierce determination. "Hmm…"

While she was distracted I drifted to stand beside Ichigo, lightly gripping his sleeve. I bent down and said softly, "Be careful, okay Ichi?"

He gave me a small but genuine smile, and I think he actually got on his tip-toes to peck a kiss on my lips. "You know I will."

My smile was bright and happy. "Good."

He walked toward the front door, and after the three of us exchanged our goodbyes I sidled back into the kitchen.

I bent down in front of Yuzu. "Can I help you with dinner today, Yuzu?"

Over time her idol worship toward me has died down. Still, her eyes were unbelievably bright as she nodded vigorously.

"Okay!" she cried out happily. "How do pork chops sound?"

I stood, kissing her on the forehead. "That sounds delicious."

She giggled and got right to work. She's learned to delegate all tasks that dealt with knives to me, so I chopped up the onions and garlic while she gathered the other ingredients.

We were still in the kitchen by the time Ichigo and Karin made their way back.

I turned and spoke my greetings, and Karin eagerly rushed into the kitchen.

"How was karate today?" I asked as I set the pork chops on the stove.

"Awesome," she said, grinning as she sat at the table. "I kicked ass."

"Butt."

I turned to see Ichigo walking into the kitchen and shrugging off his jacket. "You kicked butt." He eyed Karin expectantly.

Karin pouted. "Yeah, fine, I kicked butt."

I cackled. Too fucking cute.

We sat down and had dinner, and I couldn't help but notice how awesome everything felt. Ichigo was perfect, his sisters were great. We truly were one nice _family._

After dinner we moved into the living room and watched re-runs of The Simpsons until it was time for bed. Yuzu and Karin kissed both of us on the cheek before clambering upstairs to their shared bedroom.

It was kinda cute. When we'd been looking for houses they explicitly requested one bedroom. I wondered if it was a twin thing that made their bond so close.

That was effectively erased from my mind, though, when I felt a soft weight land on my shoulder. I turned and was met with Ichigo's beautiful orange hair. His eyes were closed and he seemed peaceful as he slept on my shoulder.

I smiled sappily. One year ago I never would've imagined how someone so perfect could become a part of my life. Ichigo was essentially ingrained into my heart and soul, and as long as he allowed it I would never, ever, let him go.

As carefully and gently as I could I resituated Ichigo and pulled him into my arms. I carried him up the stairs and into our bedroom, placing him lightly on the bed. I went around and climbed onto the other side, pulling the sheets over us both.

Still careful of not waking him, I gently scooted toward Ichigo. Over the weeks it's become an amazing habit to sleep beside Ichigo, and I'm not sure I could fall asleep otherwise.

Even in sleep he catches on almost immediately. He slowly turns and pushes himself into my chest, and I wrap him into me like a warm cocoon. I rest my head on top of his and breathe deeply through my nose, inhaling the intoxicating, delicious scent that is Ichigo.

One minute later and I join him in unconsciousness.

XxXxXxX

Days passed and I finished work early. I put files back in their place and gathered my shit together before heading to the elevator. Here I worked on the tenth floor, and I joined coworker Renji Abarai on the elevator to ride down to the main lobby.

The first two floors down consisted of awkward silence. It wasn't often I talked with Renji, and we didn't really have much in common.

"So, uhhh..." Renji began, scratching at his bright red hair. I'd just been intending to ride the elevator in silence. Why the hell did he have to put in effort and converse with me? "How, uh, how'd you like that other branch you worked at?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, genuinely contemplating the question. Nnoitra's face came to mind. Fuck, he'd made my life so fucking hard. Getting distracted every day I was at work, having to endure all his perverted shit.

I stared at the closed elevator doors, answering honestly. "It was complete shit."

But Nnoitra's ugly face slowly morphed into Ichigo's. Ichigo, the feisty, fierce kid with a lingering pain but strong will. Ichigo, the selfless kid that always wanted the best for his sisters. Ichigo, the kid who'd stolen my heart.

The elevator dinged, and the double doors opened. "But it was also fucking amazing."

I passed the threshold, and I didn't wait for his confused response as I left the elevator and soon the building.

I checked my watch. Now that I was back at my old branch shit got done so much faster and more effectively. Hell, I'd be in the driveway of our home by fucking noon.

Today was Thursday, so the girls would still be in school. I smiled, mouth wide. Ichigo and I'd get the house to ourselves.

Hm...

XxXxXxX

Gradually, very gradually, Ichigo and I's sexual encounters have increased. Right now we were both in the bedroom, clothed down to our boxers, and I was towering over him stimulating him in every and all ways. I loved hearing him moan, watching him shiver, seeing his eyes glazed in arousal.

I wanted to make everything I did for him _perfect._

My palm landed on his hard, clothed cock, and I could feel my own erection pressing into his leg. Fuck, this kid felt so amazing.

He moaned, pushing his head back in the process. I took advantage and dove in, bending down and sucking heavily on his supple neck.

With the combined stimulation of neck and cock he was hit with an infinite amount of feelings. "G-Grimm I—nngh, Fu-Fuck—ahh. _Ah!"_

I loved how I had this effect on him. How he was so flooded with arousal that he couldn't even form a complete sentence. Sweat dripped off his collarbone and down his chest, and I watched as a drop dribbled over his nipple. Leaving the one hand on his crotch I reached for his nipple with the other, squeezing it mercilessly. More moans ensued, and my arousal was heavy between my legs.

I purred, "God, you are so fucking sexy."

Suddenly Ichigo's entire body stiffened under me, and I stopped in my tracks.

Oh god. Oh god.

Did I go too far?

While our sexual encounters have always been amazing and beautiful and perfect, sometimes we went too far. We may do something that hits Ichigo too close to home and reminds him of his past, and after that I'm always sure to never do it again. At least, not until Ichigo's past is fully behind him and done with.

His reaction had awoken me from my aroused stupor. I pulled myself away, scooting back until I was precariously positioned on the edge of the bed.

I was out of breath, and my dick was painfully trapped in my briefs. I was still hard as fuck, but I was in control. I would not take advantage of Ichigo or hurt him anymore. I would _not._

Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck._

Ichigo emitted labored breathing as well, his cheeks tinted from the exertion and leftover arousal.

I was frantic with fear and dread. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." And I was, I genuinely was. I mean fuck. Was it something I did or something I said? Did I hurt him? Did I make him feel degraded? Gods, did Ichigo now see me the same way he used to see his clients?

Ichigo shook his head, and he had a protective arm wrapped around his waist, as if shielding himself. "N-No, it's…o-okay. T-That was my fault. S-Sorry."

"No, it wasn't. I was being a disgusting jerk. I'm so s—"

"Grimm."

I shut my mouth, and he had this look. This penetrating, soul-crushing, this-world-is-so-fucking-hard look. He was staring straight into my eyes, and it felt like he was gazing into my soul.

His eyes…his eyes held such anguish.

"There's something I should tell you."

All I could do was stare in confusion and awe as he continued. "What you said to me, t-that…" He closed his eyes for a moment. "That, t-that I was 'sexy'…That's what my father's m-murderer called me b-before…

He looked away, gaze downcast. "Before he raped me."

My stare continued. W-What…?

There was nothing I could say. There was nothing I _could say._ Karin had told me his father was killed during the kidnapping, but to think those fucking kidnappers had _raped_ him? _Fuck._

They raped him then kidnapped him. What the fuck had they wanted from him?

My stomach churned with painful apprehension, and the picture of a younger Ichigo being so horribly violated crossed my mind. I had a feeling I had an idea…

"There…There's something else, too…"

My eyes snapped open, and I hadn't even realized they had closed. I watched him carefully, waiting breathlessly.

His gaze was avoiding my own, his voice low and frail. "The men that took me…they had seen me hanging out with my friends at school. One night they followed me home, and broke in in the middle of the night."

I could feel my whole body shaking. I still had so many questions. So many questions, but my feelings for Ichigo were stronger. I didn't want to push, and I didn't want to hurt him

The expression on his face…I never wanted to see it ever again.

I reached out and cupped his cheek in my hand. "You don't have to tell me this, Ichi. You don't have to."

He looked at me then, giving me the tiniest of smiles. "I know, but I want to."

I couldn't help but smile at that too, and I leaned in and gave him a small kiss.

He continued. "After…after hurting me they knocked me out. When I woke up I was naked and tied to a bed with a dirty sock in my mouth. It was hours before someone finally came." Ichigo suddenly chuckled darkly. "It's funny, because for a second I remember thinking 'this person is going to save me, this person is definitely going to save me.'"

His voice made a chill run down my spine. His thoughts were stuck in a dark place. Such a dark, terrible place…

A tear had fallen down Ichigo's cheek, but he didn't seem to notice at all. "Then I realized the guy that came was one of the one's that raped me. I don't even know how I'd mistaken him for a savior. He looked more like a hellish ogre." Ichigo squinted in repulsion, like he could see the man clearly even now.

Another tear fell down his cheek, and I was starting to wonder if we had gone too far. But I wanted Ichigo to get this off his chest. What if speaking it out loud helped free him from this? Sure, reliving his past would hurt, but in the long run it'd help, wouldn't it? He'd finally allow the wound to scar, to _heal._

But gods, oh _gods_ how I dreaded what I'd hear next. I've been curious for so long, but I had a feeling it was much, much worse than I had imagined.

I touched my cheek, surprised when my fingers came back wet. Ichigo wasn't the only one that didn't know he was crying.

Ichigo wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the empty wall in front of him, and I wondered what he saw.

"He hit me, beat me over and over until I could barely move. He fucked me again, and god it hurt so bad. I remember screaming for him to stop, that I didn't want it…"

I watched him swallow the sob that threatened to erupt. He didn't want to look _"weak"_ in front of me. _Emotions don't mean you're weak, Ichigo. Please, let me see the real you._

I didn't plead that out loud, and Ichigo continued. "When he finished he…he told me I'd better get used to it, because sex was my life now."

And this all happened when he was fucking fourteen. Images of those degrading pictures of Ichigo being hurt filled my mind.

Nnoitra…by the gods, how I wished Nnoitra wasn't still alive right now.

It felt like someone had shoved formaldehyde down my throat and suffocated me. My lungs couldn't work, and my heart was beating out of my chest. Was I about to have a fucking heart attack or something? Was this normal?

If this was normal then I wanted to be dead yesterday, because living wasn't fucking worth it.

Ichigo sniffled, which threw me out of my thoughts. "And that began my life as an unpaid prostitute. I stayed in that dingy-ass basement on that dingy-ass bed, and men paid my captors to fuck me into the mattress."

He glanced to the side at me, as if judging what he should say next. I was depressed and distraught by everything he was saying, but I made sure pity stayed the hell off my expression. I didn't pity him.

But damn, I wish I could've been there to save him.

After another moment of analyzing me, he finally decided on his next topic. "Nnoitra was my first customer."

Silence ticked on, and suddenly Ichigo snorted in amusement at the face I was making.

My mouth was flailing. _"Nnoitra?"_ I absently wondered if that was one of the reasons Nnoitra was obsessed with Ichigo so much. He was his first customer, so he felt he had more ownership over Ichigo. As if being the first to pay for him _made him someone fucking special or shit like that._

I didn't know what my face looked like at that moment, but when I finally looked to Ichigo he didn't seem surprised. He appeared sad and distant. But…he also looked like he was reaching a breaking point. A ticking time bomb.

Ichigo spoke. "He was a regular, but surprisingly he was one of the better customers. That's why I was okay with him being my customer after I escaped that place."

But those _pictures._ I was suddenly assaulted by more disgusting, perverse images. What Nnoitra had done was _good_ compared to his other customers? Oh my _god!_

Ichigo swallowed nervously, and I tuned back in, trying not to throw up as I did so. "And if you're wondering, escape was easier than it should've been. All my captors were drunk and high one day, and they left me unshackled. Thought I was too broken to think of escaping." He snorted with a dark laugh. "They were wrong."

I watched on, both in terror and in anxiety. Ichigo has been through so much, and by telling me his story he was reliving everything all over again. The kid _seemed_ calm, he truly did, but I was noticing a gradual change in demeanor. He's been holding back the dam of emotions for so long, but all it did was build up inside until, soon enough, it'd explode.

I thought I heard a sob escape him but I couldn't tell for sure. The time it took for me to blink was all Ichigo needed to crawl into my lap and push his lips against mine. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and I realized the dam had finally burst. I returned the kiss just as eagerly, and I tried my best to provide him the physical comfort I knew he needed. My hands roamed beneath his shirt, loving the feel of his soft skin under my fingers.

He moaned at my touch and only pushed his lips harder against mine. My teeth stung as they collided with Ichigo's, but he was visibly undeterred.

Finally we pulled apart, both of us panting heavily. Ichigo's eyes were dark with lust and something else, something I couldn't classify.

He stared into my eyes with a dark gaze, pupils dilated. He uttered words I never thought I'd _ever_ hear come out of those sinfully beautiful lips. "Grimmjow, fuck me."

My eyes widened and my throat dried up. The visual of us "fucking" was immediate, and I hardened at the mere thought of it.

And he called me _Grimmjow._ Not Grimm. He didn't call me Grimm...

Before I could do or say anything Ichigo desperately pushed his lips against mine again, our mouths clashing as his hands fumbled to take off my briefs.

How long have I been waiting for us to have sex…Days, weeks, months?

Saliva dribbled down the sides of our mouths, and Ichigo had successfully pulled my briefs off my hips and down to my knees. When he reached for his own I placed firm hands on both of his, stopping him.

We could wait a little longer.

Ichigo tugged away at my grip but couldn't budge them. He forced his lips off mine to instead look at me with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Haven't you been waiting for this? Come on, let's go."

I shook my head. "No."

Ichigo grit his teeth, and I heard the distinct crunching of bone. "What, so you can fuck your thousands of girlfriends but not me? Am I not good enough?"

"No, not at all," I shook my head resolutely, passionately. "I just want to protect you. Ichigo, you know I love you—"

His voice roared through the room. "If you love me then fuck me!"

Time stood still. Everything was deathly quiet now, the only sound Ichigo's faint panting. His eyes were dark with ferocity.

Ichigo was drowning in his past, and he wanted a reprieve, an escape. Did I fuck up? Should I not have let Ichigo tell his horror-filled story? The memories were more potent, more damaging now. How could I make them go away? How could I make him realize that that part of his life was over?

The darkness of Ichigo's eyes almost made them look black, and his voice was low and emotionless. "If you won't fuck me I'll find someone who will."

A guttural growl erupted from my throat, and I saw nothing but red.

Before I could think I closed the distance between us, crashing my lips onto his. There was a spark of lust and love and desperation, and I embraced it in all its essence.

I allowed my hands to roam all over his body. No crevice or inch of his body went untouched. His entire body shivered from the contact, and I wondered if it was from arousal or something else.

I pulled us apart and threw him onto the bed, his back hitting the sheets. I looked into his eyes, and I also wondered if the stark blackness of his eyes was from arousal or something else.

Ichigo was bare and completely naked now, and I threw one of his legs onto my shoulder in order to spread his legs. Without preamble I dipped a finger into his hole.

I shoved it in and out, in and out. "This is what you want, right? If this is what you want then I'll give it to you."

My voice was sinister, and I could tell he was intimidated, scared. Ichigo was _scared_ of me.

I didn't insert more than the one finger, and I kept it at a constant pace, back and forth, back and forth. The inside of him was amazing, and my finger was on fucking fire, but I did my best not to get so aroused I lost my cool.

I was so angry, so _something,_ I couldn't really focus on how amazing his hole was anyway. I watched as Ichigo's face contorted into something nasty, and I waited.

I played my part. "You're awfully tight down here, ya know that? Your body's just sucking me in."

I stopped talking but continued my finger thrusts. Ichigo continued to emit small moans and grunts. All my senses felt heightened, and I could see and hear him so so fucking well. It was almost maddening.

I could tell he was affected. He couldn't hold it in much longer.

It wasn't long after that singular thought that it occurred.

The first tear fell quietly, sliding down his cheek and falling off his jaw to land on the sheets. A second came, a third. His facial expression was twisted into deep anguish. A fourth came, and then soon the rest came crashing down. A sob ripped through his chest and he erupted in cries of despair.

His arms rested over his eyes, moving as if to shield him from the world. He curled into himself, his legs pulled up to his chest. His voice was frantic. "I-I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm not ready I'm s-sorry I'm so damn sorry."

I sat back, watching him fall apart. Because that's what he needed to do, right? Sometimes you couldn't start climbing back up until you finished falling. Sometimes you had to hit rock bottom before you could find the strength to push forward.

"Ichi…" I said softly. I wasn't sure if it was okay to touch him, but that was answered immediately as he sat up and wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry Grimm, that was horrible of me I didn't mean any of it I was being horrible I'm sorry I'm so—"

"Ichi, stop, shh." He did, and I just held him in my arms, running fingers through his hair and along his spine. He seemed soothed as he sobbed, and he relaxed into me.

I kissed the top of his head, pulling him in a little closer. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that, Ichi. But…But I wanted you to realize you aren't ready. You don't live that life anymore, you should _never_ feel pressured into having sex." I kissed his bright, beautiful hair. "All I want is for you to be happy."

His sobs died down a bit, and he seemed to genuinely contemplate what I said. He nodded slowly. "Y-You're right…thank you." He swallowed nervously, and he pulled away from me slightly. He looked up at me with glistening eyes. "We don't have to have sex, but…can I kiss you?"

My heart pounded heavily against my chest, and my eyes immediately zeroed in on his plump lips.

My own lips felt dry as visuals of his lips on mine flooded me, and I was too in awe to speak. I could only urge him forward, gently bringing his head toward mine.

Our lips met. No matter how many times Ichigo and I kissed it always felt even more potent than the last. My lips were burning from his warmth, and my entire body was raging with desire for him.

Minutes later we parted, mere inches apart as we breathed each other's air.

I licked my lips. "I, I know you just said a kiss, but…can I touch you?"

Ichigo shivered, and he nodded eagerly.

He needed something to distract him, something to make him realize he wasn't alone. _I_ could be that something.

I _would_ be that something.

I took Ichigo's neck into my mouth, listening to his beautiful moans of pleasure.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Did that get too dark? I can’t really tell. Sorry if it did. XD There’s still some angst left, but the worsstttt is over!**

**Almost to completion! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**More minor angst. I'm so mean to Ichi.**

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**I'd also like to emphasize, once again, how amazing you all have been. I am so grateful for your kind words. ^_^ They genuinely make my day.**

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**Enjoy Chapter 14! :D**

**XxXxXxX**

I resumed our heated kiss, and I allowed my hands to roam all over his body. I plucked his nipples, teased his belly button, tickled his spine. I touched him everywhere; no inch of him lacked my fingers.

He moaned into my mouth, and he moaned out my name, too. I played between his legs. I wasn't thinking, I just _was._ My whole brain shut down, and all I could recognize was this beautiful, in pain kid in front of me.

His cheeks were red and his pupils fully dilated. His hands were gripping the sheets tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

He was looking up at me with such passion, and I could feel my mouth drooling at the mere sight of him.

My hands continued their aimless roaming over his body while my lips had a destination. I kissed a path down his chin, along his neck, against his nipples, then danced my tongue all the way down, down, down until it reached his heavy cock.

Without thinking I took it into my mouth. I wanted this kid. I wanted this kid so _fucking_ bad. Ichigo was writhing and bucking under me. His legs were spread wide, and his hands were fisted tight into the bedsheets. Every single moan that escaped his lips renewed my fervor. All I could do was ravish him with feelings and desire. I wanted him to feel more, _more._

His dick was slick with precum and my own saliva, and I kept going down on him, every time listening to and memorizing Ichigo's moans. I wanted to make him crazy, I wanted to make him go absolutely insane with lust.

"I-I…I, _ah."_ Ichigo couldn't say anymore than that, and soon he was coming into my mouth. I braced myself for the weird, salty flavor that women always complained of, but I actually didn't mind it. It was tastier than I expected, and it barely reminded me of the fruity smell of his hair.

I licked up every drop. This came from _Ichigo,_ and that meant it was worth swallowing.

When Ichigo came down from his high he had a differing opinion. He pushed at my forehead, trying to force me away from his delicious juices.

"N-No, wh-what are you doing, Grimm? S-Stop! T-That's g-gross."

I gazed up at him as I very deliberately licked at a strip of cum on the tip of his penis. "What's gross?"

Ichigo's cheeks were bright red, and he tried pushing me off again. "T-Th-That!"

"What?"

"That!"

I licked up some cum on his lower stomach. "You mean this?"

He gasped out, _"Y-Yes!"_

I smirked up at him, snickering. He was beyond mortified if his expression was anything to go by. It was fucking adorable.

He looked me up and down, his cheeks not lightening a single shade. I couldn't remember ever seeing him so self-conscious before. "Y-You're still clothed. Why am I the only one w-without clothes?" He pulled lightly on the boxers I had pulled back up over my hips. "T-Take off your clothes."

The bulge of my cock only got bigger. Fuck. I wanted to _so_ bad, but I knew this wasn't something I could budge on.

I sobered up, ignoring my arousal as I petted his cheek. "If I did that then I would definitely take advantage of you."

His cheeks were still a bright red, but he had a look of comprehension. He wasn't ready to have sex yet, so he didn't push any further about me getting naked with him.

And that's what I was expecting.

I gave him a small smile as I climbed up to rest beside him. I held my weight up with a forearm while the hand of my other arm remained on his cheek.

"Ichi…thank you so much for sharing your past with me." I gently pet the soft skin of his cheek. "I know it wasn't easy."

Ichigo didn't have the peaceful, content expression I'd honestly been expecting him to have. He'd gotten all that shit off his chest, it _finally_ became a burden he didn't have to carry alone.

Yet his expression was contemplative and…nervous? Sad? I couldn't pinpoint what it was, but I knew I didn't understand it.

He sighed lightly, and he put a hand to his face. "I…I'm sorry. There is one more thing. I was just a b-bit too…embarrassed.” He looked at me then, eyes big and wide and sad. “But I want to tell you everything. So…there is one more thing.”

I blinked. That wasn't what I'd been expecting. "Of course. What’s up?” For some unspeakable reason that suddenly made me unbelievably angry. With a strong hand I forced him to look at me. "Ichi, you are an _incredible_ person. You endured more than possibly anyone in existence. You were hurt and hurt and hurt but you never gave up. You had to fight for your freedom and then you had to fight for your sisters. Ichi…You're the goddamn strongest, most amazing person I know. _Nothing_ you say will change how I feel about you."

He kissed me, our lips ever-so-lightly touching.

He said, "Thank you. But…" He looked away. "I never told you about what h-happened to my father."

My mind mentally reached out and grasped for straws. I haven't learned much about his father, right? Fuck, almost nothing. I just knew he'd been fucking _murdered._ The knowledge of his murder had been the sole reason Karin even agreed to talk to me about Ichigo's past in the first place.

Ichigo put his head in his hands, and I thought I saw the glistening of tears. "I-I want to tell you so b-bad, but…I'm so _ashamed."_ The hands rolled up to run through his hair, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

"Ichi…" I spoke softly, gently. He opened his beautiful eyes to stare into mine. A tear slid down his cheek, and tremors ran through his body.

I leaned over him and pulled him into a hug. My face lay facedown beside his, and my whole body enveloped his smaller one. I couldn't see his face, which I fucking hated, but I also hoped it made him more comfortable. I didn't see him, and he didn't see me. Less intimate, less demanding.

"I will never, _never_ pressure you into talking about this." I felt Ichigo shudder beneath me, and I squeezed my arms tighter around him. "However, I want you to know I am _always_ here for you. If you ever want to talk about it I won't judge, I won't be grossed out, and I won't laugh. I'll be the person you need me to be. I swear."

Ichigo wrapped an arm around my back, squeezing me tighter to him.

When did I grow up? When did I mature from a womanizing manwhore to a devoted gentleman that wanted to do nothing more than nurture his lover?

I couldn't pinpoint the exact beginning of my transition, but I was 100% certain the beautiful man in my arms caused it.

"I…I w-want to tell you, Grimm." Ichigo nestled his head into my neck, and I could feel the wetness on his cheeks. "I really want to tell you s-so bad, but…" A sob wracked through him. "I'm so ashamed."

I shut my eyes tight. Why did this kid have to go through so much? Is this why he used to portray such an emotionless façade? So he couldn't get close to anyone, and he'd never be expected to share these painful secrets?

After the first sob that escaped him he suppressed the others. He seemed very trained at containing his emotions, but that's _not_ what I wanted him from him. I wanted him to release it all: anger, sadness, grief, _everything_. You know how you scream into a pillow to let it all out? I _wanted_ to be the fucking pillow.

Ichigo visibly steeled himself, and he took a deep breath. One, two…

"W-When I was fourteen, ya know when the men came to get me…" He licked his lips nervously, and he tightened his arms around me. "It was in the middle of the night. My sisters were at a sleepover with their friends, so it was just me and Dad at home."

Ichigo took a deep breath. "When the men had got to my bedroom, D-Dad h-heard them, and went to see what was going on."

I squeezed him tighter to my chest, saying nothing. I feared response would push Ichigo into silence. Whatever he wanted to share, I would listen to with open ears.

Karin. Karin had said she'd never heard the specifics, that Ichigo never talked about the incident with her and Yuzu.

But he…he was talking to me. He was talking to _me._

Ichigo continued, and he placed a hand flat on the skin of my back. I wondered if it brought him comfort. "One of them was t-taking off my clothes when my dad showed up." He sniffled, and I was suddenly scared to hear the rest. My eyes began to fill with tears.

"My dad, he…he'd been so shocked that he just stood there. It wasn't for long, b-but it was long enough for o-one of the men to…to s-shoot him."

His hand curled into a fist against my flesh, and I could hear the distinct grinding of Ichigo's teeth as they crunched together. "My dad was shot in the chest, but h-he was still _alive_ when…when…"

Ichigo was shaking, and his eyes were glazed and distant. They had a look of utter terror.

"He was alive, conscious, _w-watching_ while they…while they raped me."

Time stood still, and my vision blurred. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. Everything felt so wrong. It felt like I was dying. Maybe I really was dying.

I preferred the thought of death over what I'd just heard.

What Ichigo had told me earlier was so much worse than this but, after everything I've learned today, after all the sordid things I'd heard…I'd reached my breaking point. I'd absolutely, without a doubt reached my breaking point.

Suddenly I was standing. I was standing, my legs were shaking, my hands were fisted in my hair, and I wanted to die.

"Are you _kidding_ me?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I pulled out chunks of hair, but it still wasn't good enough. It wasn't fucking _good enough._

I grabbed the nearest breakable item—a vase sitting innocently on a desk—and I hurled it into the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, the shards of glass scattering in every direction.

I vaguely heard as Ichigo yelped and leapt out of the bed, but I didn't care. As long as he stayed away from the danger zone, away from the destruction that was _me,_ he was safe.

But he didn't do that. He didn't do that at all.

I was reaching for the next item—a nice lamp my mother had bought me two Christmases ago—when Ichigo stopped me. He lunged forward, bodily throwing himself into me. The lamp remained unharmed on the table, and he hugged me fiercely from behind.

"Grimm, fucking stop. _Stop it._ This isn't helping anyone, so just calm down. Please…please."

I stared at the floor, at the countless shards of glass. The vase was beyond repair. There was no way to fix something that broken. Because god, it was so _so_ broken.

Ichigo's been through a lot, but he couldn't possibly be… _this_ broken. Right?

I felt faint, and my knees gave out. Ichigo caught me, and I drunkenly staggered over to the bed. Ichigo helped me sit and I leaned forward, putting my head in my hands. I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Oh fuck. Ohhh fuck." My voice was muffled. Ichigo rubbed my back as he stayed with me whispering soothing nothings. I wasn't paying attention to the words, but I didn't have to. His voice was like a lullaby. So beautiful, so hypnotic. I wanted to fall asleep to his voice every day of my life.

I stopped talking and started listening. Ichigo was such an amazing man. My reaction was…horrible, the worst. How had he not abandoned me? How was he still right beside me? I mean fuck, he was trying to comfort _me. He_ was the one that was raped while his father…his father…

I cleared my throat. "I-I…I'm sorry about…that." I suddenly chuckled darkly, not amused in the slightest. "My dad was a mean drunk, always…always throwing shit. It appears I'm the same way but sober."

I continued before Ichigo could speak. That wasn't the point I was trying to make. "I k-know my reaction wasn't…the best, in fact it was fucking terrible. But I…I just want to protect you s-so bad. Learning about all this shit you've been through…" I pushed down the sob that threatened to escape. "It makes me so fucking angry."

I finally met Ichigo's gaze. His chocolate and caramel eyes looked at me with such concern, such love, and I wondered how I could possibly deserve someone like him.

"I'm so sorry about what happened to you all those years ago. You didn't deserve that, you _never_ deserved that. You deserve to be showered with happiness, with love, with fucking everything in the world just because of how goddamn amazing you are."

I brushed his bangs out of his face, loving the way his eyes glistened with tears. "And again, I'm sorry about...my reaction. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I _will._ I'll g-go to therapy, counseling, whatever I need to to—"

My mouth was hot, and I slowly let my eyes glide closed. His lips were on mine, and I let him melt into me. I trailed soft fingers along his jaw.

After a few moments Ichigo broke the kiss. He licked his lips as he looked at me. "Grimm, please don't hate yourself. You don't need any of that counseling or whatever. Wh-When you threw the vase I felt a-almost…relieved."

I stared at him, shocked and dumbfounded. _What?_

He kept his gaze with mine. "Initially I-I'd been scared you'd be disgusted. That you wouldn't…That you wouldn't want anything to do with me." Ichigo swallowed, and he closed his eyes tight for the briefest moments. Then he looked back at me, and he took my hand into his. "But you were angry for _my_ sake. You were angry that I'd been hurt, and that…" He bit his bottom lip, and suddenly he smiled at me, his eyes glazed with tears. "That makes me happy."

I was speechless. I was so absolutely fucking, without a doubt speechless. How could this selfless, flawless creature in front of me think _I'd_ be disgusted by _him?_ How could he even consider that?

Ichigo…you are such an amazing person. Why can't you see that? _I wish I could take my eyes and give them to you just so you could see how beautiful you are._

My unoccupied hand reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. I stared into those two-toned eyes, those eyes that held so much depth I could drown in them. "Ichi." He gazed up at me, and I refused to blink. "If I told you you are the most incredible being in existence…that no individual is even half as amazing as you are…would you believe me?"

The hand I held in my own was trembling, and his bottom lip quivered. His mouth was curved into such a beautiful smile, and his eyes glazed with tears. He shook his head. "No."

I leaned forward and kissed his cheeks, his nose, his lips, before moving to whisper into his ear. "Every day I am with you…I will gradually, absolutely, change your mind."

I put a hand to his bright orange hair and led him to rest on my shoulder. He did so, and we just rested. Quietly, contently, we remained at the foot of the bed.

Several minutes past, and it was Ichigo who broke the silence. I heard him lick his lips, and he stuttered, "G-Grimm…?"

He removed his head from my shoulder, and for the first time I noticed that his cheeks were a light pink. I swallowed headily, and suddenly all I could do was stare at his face. Why…why was he blushing? Fuck, that was so cute. But why was he doing it?

I listened intently, watching his shyness unfold. "Yes, Ichi?"

"U-Um…" Ichigo scratched his cheek awkwardly, avoiding my gaze. "…I'm still naked."

I blinked in confusion. I looked down, and confusion was swiftly replaced with comprehension. I could feel blood rush to my cheeks and groin at the same time, and that damn tent in my pants was back.

"S-Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a fucking adolescent hormonal teenager. Why did everything about Ichigo have to turn me on so much? This was so fucking ridiculous.

"It's okay," he replied shyly, and he seemed to genuinely mean it.

Since the beginning it was always me that initiated any intimate advances (because my fucking raging hormones were fucking insufferable). But, today, it's been Ichigo taking the lead. And right now was no exception.

He turned my cheek and guided my face to his. One of his hands was resting on the back of my head, and he gently pushed me forward until our lips were touching.

This moment was so perfect I almost expected a choir of angels to burst through the door and start singing songs of praise. Broken glass was wrought all over the floor, but it couldn't come close to ruining this moment. His lips were so soft, so moist, and I wanted to sink into his perfection.

I let Ichigo keep the pace, and our kiss was gentle and slow. Our tongues met and licked at each other, but there were no attempts at dominance. My hand found it's way to the nape of his neck, and I softly caressed the smooth flesh.

Ichigo moaned ever so softly into my mouth, and I gently urged him farther up the bed. His head rested on the pillows while I towered over him. We never broke the kiss, and his long bare legs wrapped around my waist. I gasped as I felt his naked cock on my belly, and I knew he could feel mine hard on his thigh. I was _way_ too fucking aroused.

Slowly and gradually my second brain took control. Every nip and lick and tease from Ichigo made my penis fill more and more with blood. Without moving my lips from his I resituated until our cocks aligned together. I pressed down and rubbed hard against him, and he moaned deeply into my mouth. His fingernails clawed at my back, and everything about him screamed _sex._

I continued rocking against his cock for what felt like forever. It was a slow stimulation, but it was possibly the most amazing sensation I've ever had in my life. And the sexy noises Ichigo was making under me, _fuck,_ I thought he was going to kill me. Could you die from overstimulation or insanely excessive arousal?

If that was a thing, Ichigo'd kill me in five minutes.

I was so goddamned hard. At some point I had resituated us. The backs of his knees were on top of my shoulders, and my hands held on tightly to his fleshy, muscular thighs. He was so flexible we were able to touch chest-to-chest. If I didn't have pants on, this would be the position I had sex with him for the first time.

Ichigo brought a hand to his mouth, biting his wrist to muffle his moans. I immediately reached to remove it. "No," I growled, gently pulling on his hand as I continued my pace. "I want to hear you."

Ichigo shook his head, arousal and embarrassment vying for display on his features. Why did he feel embarrassed? The sounds he made, they were…incredible.

I repositioned so that my clothed cock hit his hole, and a gasp escaped his lips. I quickly removed his hand.

My body towered over him. "I want to hear you." His eyes were closed tight and mouth open in a wordless moan. I scoured every inch of Ichigo's face, memorizing it and storing it into my memory for later. I could masturbate to that face every day for a century and not get tired of it.

"I-I… _ah._ I'm…" His body was rocking with my thrusts, and he was having trouble catching his breath. I wanted to grin mischievously. That meant I was doing my job.

I was still creating that amazing pleasure, and Ichigo opened his mouth to moan when a loud knock banged on the bedroom door. I immediately froze, my rocking against his body abruptly screeching to a halt.

It was Karin's voice. "Oi! We're back from school so keep it down!" I heard her mutter at the end as she walked away, "Damn lovebirds."

I chuckled, and Ichigo put a hand to his face, clearly mortified. I faintly heard Yuzu scold Karin as the pair of footsteps walked off. I watched Ichigo's face turn red, and I had the biggest grin on my face.

I planted a kiss to his forehead. "Aw, don't be so shy, kitten. It's not a big deal." Ichigo peaked out from behind his hand to look at me, and I winked. "That probably won't be the last time that happens either."

Ichigo immediately covered his face back up, groaning in embarrassment.

I cackled in response before climbing off of him. I walked toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower. I need to deal with," I gestured to my lower region. "This."

Ichigo removed his hand from his face, and he blinked in confusion. "Wha—? No, no." He was quickly climbing off the bed now. His naked body tempted me in more ways than I thought possible, and I could feel my dick hardening.

He stood in front of me, placing a hand on my crotch. "I want to take care of it still."

"Karin and Yuzu will hear us."

He was already grabbing my wrist and pulling me into the bathroom. "We can still run the water."

He shut the door behind us, and we remained in there for a good half hour.

Ichigo was so talented with his mouth I wouldn't have been surprised if Karin and Yuzu heard us anyway.

XxXxXxX

The weeks flew by in a blur. Ichigo was amazing, life was amazing, and I had no complaints.

I'd been sleeping with Ichigo spooned against my chest when I woke to the soft creaking of the bedroom door. I squinted my eyes to the faint light, noting it was already morning. Karin was slipping into our room and cracking the door behind her. She noticed I was awake and began tip-toeing in our direction.

Ichigo and I shared a bed, but we weren't in any provocative or scandalous position. I held him snuggly in my arms, my front spooning every inch of his back. My right hand—the ever-intimate hand—had slipped under his muscle shirt, the fingers splayed fully against his toned abdomen.

The sheets covered us up to our shoulders though, so it really wasn't _that_ bad.

I was still half-asleep, but even subconsciously I knew Karin didn't often come into our bedroom unannounced.

"Karin? Everything okay?" I whispered a little anxiously. Ichigo was still asleep, and Karin was still tiptoeing. That meant she wanted him to stay asleep.

She nodded, and as she drew closer her face didn't show any signs of distress. I didn't understand her intentions, but a flood of relief still surged through me. At least she wasn't in trouble or anything.

Suddenly she was pulling something from behind her back, and I squinted to notice it was one of those weird party items, a blowout or something.

She put it up to her lips, took a deep breath, and it was then I learned just how cruel Ichigo's sister was.

She blew on the mouthpiece, and a deafening horn blew through the whole house. Ichigo cursed, flying from his place beside me to sit up straight, frantically searching for the source.

Karin was grinning maniacally, and Ichigo's gaze zeroed in on the item in her hand.

She twirled it between her fingers. "You said you were gonna make us breakfast this morning Ichi-nii, and I'm hungry."

He plopped back onto the pillow, exasperated. He growled, mumbling, "You still could have woken me up like a normal person."

She chuckled deviously. "What, like Grimmjow would? Sorry, I'm not into that kinda stuff."

I cackled, high-fiving his smirking sister. Ichigo's cheeks were scorched, and he punched me in the stomach before sitting up and crawling out of the bed.

Karin went on ahead, and Ichigo stopped at the doorframe to look back at me in the bed. "You want something too, Grimm?"

I leaned against my palm, feeling my muscles roll from the movement. "Are you talking about food or that 'good morning' kiss I still haven't got?"

His cheeks burst with red again, and he looked across the hall to make sure Karin wasn't still there. He walked back into the bedroom and knelt on the bed to reach me.

Our lips touched and we melted into each other, a beautiful blend of orange and blue. My fingers skimmed over the smooth skin of his cheek. Everything felt so right with the world.

Karin's voice rumbled from the hall. "Ichi-nii, don't _make_ me come back in there!"

Ichigo released me, snorting and laughing under his breath. He pecked one final kiss onto my jaw before straightening up and heading out of the bedroom. "Yeah yeah, coming!"

I watched him leave, feeling more blissful and relaxed than I'd thought possible.

The four of us have had this living arrangement now for a full three months. I'm back at my original branch in Kyoto, and we live in a spacious two-story home nearby.

It kinda felt like I had _kids,_ but it didn't freak me out at all. I used to hate the thought of having children of my own, was repulsed by even the thought of it. They were grimy, immature, and more often than not intellectually retarded.

I'd been wrong, though. Karin and Yuzu are awesome, thoughtful kids. I liked the lifestyle I had now—I fucking _loved_ it. Ichigo's family was my own, and I wouldn't trade them for all the money, women, or possessions in the whole goddamn world.

I lay there for another moment in silent awe before finally deciding to get up. I pulled on a shirt before heading downstairs, my bare feet cold against the wooden steps.

Even from the top of the stairs I could hear amused banter going on in the kitchen.

"No Ichi-nii, you don't put it _there!"_

"What are you talking about, where _else_ would I put it?"

"Here, put it _here!"_

"It won't fit, there's no way I'm putting it in there."

I’m still standing still. They continued their banter, and for a reason I didn't comprehend I popped a boner. Wordlessly and soundlessly, I climbed back up the stairs, traveled through the bedroom, and locked myself in the bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and blasted the water to freezing cold temperatures.

Even before Ichigo and I had been official I had stopped having sex. No one else had held any interest to me anymore, so I just hadn't seen the point in it. I was twenty-four and I had _never_ gone this many months without sex.

Living with Ichigo, sleeping in the same bed each and every night...it was so fucking hard. Every morning I woke up with the biggest boner of my life. If he weren't so fucking gorgeous maybe it'd be a _tiny_ bit easier.

Either way, all I knew for certain was self-restraint was suddenly the hardest fucking thing in the world.

The freezing water showered down on me, and my eyes were bright with determination. It was hard, but I wouldn't let that affect anything. Ichigo was _worth_ it. Sex wasn't the end-all, be-all, and that was especially the case with someone as amazing as Ichigo. He was special to me, and I'd demonstrate that through both my words and my actions.

So I stood in the cold as fuck shower, waiting for my arousal to pass.

**XxXxXxX**

**One more chapter! There isn't ttoooo much plot left, but there is one cute jealous moment!**

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**Stick around if you want to see sex. ;D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Ahhhh, the final chapter. So bittersweet! Before we proceed I want to thank anyone and everyone who stuck it out to the end! So glad we've been able to take this journey together ^_^**

**Onto Chapter 15!!!**

**XxXxXxXxX**

By the time I climbed out of the shower Yuzu and Karin had already left for school. Ichigo told me they said they "sent kisses my way," and I smiled. Damn cute kids.

He was cleaning the dishes, and my smile slipped away as I continued watching Ichigo. His gaze was distant, and a frown marred his features. He was cleaning the pan almost robotically; he wasn't paying attention at all.

I walked up to him from behind, gently wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my chin on his shoulder. He didn't flinch, which I was eternally grateful for, and he continued his cleaning.

"Ichi, I can tell something's up. What's wrong?"

The hand holding the washcloth faltered for the slightest moment before continuing its task with renewed vigor. "Yuzu…"

I frowned, trying to understand. I didn't have to ask as he continued. "She asked about my scars again." I looked down. Ah. The muscle shirt he was wearing revealed many. "I…Now that I'm done with that l-life, I feel like I should tell her."

He stopped cleaning, throwing the pan in the sink before turning to look at me. It's been months since I've seen him this troubled. "What do you think, Grimm? What should I do?"

He looked so scared, so conflicted. Did he think Yuzu would look down on him for something like that? Did he think she'd think any less of him?

I contained my growl. _Fucking nonsense._

My hand petted his cheek, and I bent down to touch my nose to his. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. There's no way, _no damn way,_ Yuzu would look down on you for taking care of her and her sister. You allowed yourself to be hurt again and again solely for them." He looked away, and I slid my nose against his until he finally locked gazes with me again. "I don't think that's something to look down on at all. Do you?"

He swallowed, and he bent over to hit his forehead against my shoulder. He shuddered. "You're too good to me…" he whispered into my shirt, his grip on the material tight and desperate.

I wrapped my arms fully around his upper torso, bringing him in closer. I whispered back, dead serious. "I treat you the way you deserve to be treated." And I will continue to do so every day for the rest of my life.

He shivered, nuzzling his forehead farther into my shoulder. He was quiet for several long moments, and I remained patiently by his side.

He seemed to have come to a decision when he next spoke. "When I tell Yuzu…and Karin…" He audibly swallowed. "Will you be there?"

I smiled into his hair. I loved the little moments that he allowed himself to rely on me. For so long he's been alone, bearing such heavy burdens by himself. He'd probably just gotten used to it, and I was glad to see I was slowly drawing him out of that habit.

"Yeah, Ichi. I'll be wherever you need me to be."

He exhaled heavily in relief, and I don't think either of us realized he'd been holding his breath. I chuckled and Ichigo blushed, and I kissed his forehead. "Too fucking cute, kitten."

He pulled away from me and beat my chest, his cheeks bright red. "Asshole."

I smiled, and he went back to cleaning the dishes. I stood alongside him, drying them then putting them in their place.

That night Ichigo sat Yuzu and Karin down and told them the truth. I'd known Karin already knew, but I think hearing the truth aloud pushed all her suppressed emotions to the forefront. Yuzu sobbed into Karin's arms as tears flowed freely down Karin's cheeks. Ichigo cried too, but I think it was for a different reason. A reason I hated.

Watching the three of them converge into a group hug, I made a vow to myself. With everything Ichigo's been through, he still thinks he's gross, corrupt, unworthy.

Well that…that was going to change. I swear it.

At some point I'd somehow been sucked into the group hug. I didn't mind, and I squeezed Ichigo to me, as if sending him a message. He responded with a squeeze of his own, and I turned to see him smile softly at me.

I'm not sure what he'd been expecting when he told his sisters he used to be a prostitute, but I had a feeling it went a lot better than he anticipated.

XxXxXxXxX

The day we had sex for the first time was a day I'd remember for the rest of my life.

Pretty much from start to finish it'd been a great day— _not_ all of it, mind you, as you'll discover soon enough, but it was still an unforgettable and amazing, _amazing_ day. It was a Saturday and neither of us had work. Karin and Yuzu were on a camping trip with their classmates and wouldn't be back until Sunday afternoon.

I woke up to an empty bed, and was only temporarily alarmed until I noticed the distinct sound of running water from the bathroom. I laid back down, appeased, and I imagined what Ichigo looked like beneath the spray. Not surprisingly, the mere thought gave me a massive boner.

Ichigo and I hadn't gone all the way yet, but we'd still gotten nicely frisky with each other (just thinking about it puts me on cloud 9). The rule we've stuck by, however, is that we can't both be naked at the same time. If that happened one thing may lead to another, and neither of us wanted to do something we'd regret.

Emotionally, Ichigo has gotten a lot better. He doesn't look down on himself as much, and he's _closer_ to treating me as an equal. Closer, but still a lot to go. I wish he'd be more dependent on me. He still tries to carry so many burdens by himself. I don't like it.

The water in the bathroom turns off, and I imagine him toweling himself dry. The water dribbling down his body, traveling over parts of him I so fucking _wanted_ to be touching right now.

I pull my hard dick out of my pants and glide my hand along the smooth skin. What would he look like when we had sex in the shower? His cheeks would be red from both the steam and arousal, his legs spread impossibly wide as I crashed into him. He'd moan my name over and over again, _begging_ me to fuck him harder.

And I would. By the _gods_ I would.

I never heard the bathroom door open, and I finally sensed I was being watched. I glanced to the side to see Ichigo leaned against the wall, towel loosely around his hips as he intently watches me.

His cheeks were red, and he looked displeased that I'd stopped. "What are you doing?" he asks, as if he doesn't know the answer.

I grinned, and I continued sliding my hand along my cock. "Don't you remember? You gave me permission to masturbate to you."

He grew in confidence. He returned my grin with a small smirk, and he climbed onto the bed to lie beside me. My dick sensed his close proximity, and if it wasn't standing at attention before it definitely was now. Drops of water still dribbled along his body, and he glistened. I craved to touch every inch of him.

"Then why'd you stop?" he purred, and I hadn't noticed he had literally left me frozen in awe. He placed his hand on my own, moving our hands in unison up and down along my cock. I shivered at the look in his eye, and I placed my other hand behind his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

XxXxXxXxX

An hour later and we finally left the bedroom. We never went all the way, but that didn't mean we didn't have lots of foreplay.

And kissing. Oh gods, so much amazing kissing.

I was fixing us an early lunch when the doorbell rang. It couldn't be Yuzu or Karin, and typically the only other person that occasionally came to visit up was our neighbor Rose.

She was an older women, with a slightly humped back, white curly hair, and glasses the size of a soda can. She essentially only ever visited to see Ichigo, as she deemed him "the most beautiful man she's ever laid eyes on." She never made a move on him and seemed harmless enough, so I let it go. I mean, it's not like she was wrong.

Ichigo walked to the front door, and I was once again stupidly paranoid. What if it was Nnoitra, or another client? What if it was someone that _knew_ of what Ichigo used to do for money?

This time, though…my paranoia wasn't misplaced.

He went to open the door, and I toweled my hands dry, following after him.

It wasn't Rose at our door, nor was it Yuzu or Karin. It was a mid-40s, elitist-looking guy that I instantly wasn't fond of. He had an obvious air of arrogance, and I was already ready to kick him off our property and away from Ichigo.

Both Ichigo and the man reacted to each other in very contrasting ways, and I now had an idea who this fucker was.

Fucking fuck.

The man looked way-too-fucking ecstatic to see Ichigo. "Ah, hello dear boy! I've finally found you. How are you, lovely? My, you look fabulous as always." He leaned in a bit closer. "I was hoping to continue where we left off before. It's been so long and I do so miss the touch of your body."

I grit my teeth, and my hands were in tight fists. If this kept up much longer I'd be doing more than watching...

Ichigo shivered visibly, and his eyes were haunted. "N-No, I…I don't do that anymore."

The man raised an eyebrow in confusion before "ahh"ing in understanding. " _I_ see. You'd like to up the price, right, doll? How does hmm…$200 an hour sound?" He suddenly licked his lips, his gaze running up and down Ichigo's body. "But one hour will most definitely not be enough."

And then I was moving. There was no way, no _way_ , I could stand by and watch this fucker anymore.

After all the time I've spent with Ichigo, I learned long ago that he didn't like it when other people fought his battles for him. But I'd held off for as long as I could. Now? I'd already reached my limit.

I was in front of Ichigo now, pushing his smaller body behind me as my other hand got a tight grip on the front of the man's collar. His gaze demonstrated true fear, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Ichigo has made so much fucking progress. Was it all shattered because of this one little _fucker?_

But this wasn't Ichigo's hometown, where he performed his job. How did this fucker even _find_ us?

I growled loudly, and he cowered even more away from me, frantically pushing at my hand around his collar.

"P-P-Please, I-I mean n-no harm. I j-jus—"

"No _harm?"_ I screamed in his face. "Are you _fucking kidding_ me? He is _not_ for sale, and if I ever see your face again I will crush you like the disgusting, insignificant bug that you are." My eyes raged in fiery flames, and my blue eyes burned into his. _"Got it?"_

"Y-Yes, y-y-yes, just _please_ let g-go!" My eyes continued to burn with fury while his were alight with fear.

I did as he requested, but in the process it sent him flying off our steps and landing on his ass. He yelped, but quickly recovered before scrambling away to his Porsche.

I slammed the door, not surprised as it rattled on its hinges. That fucker, how dare he…how _dare_ he?

I turned around to face Ichigo. He was looking down at the wooden floor, his hands lightly clenched into fists. He was nibbling on his bottom lip, an act I had learned meant he was in deep thought.

I had a feeling his thoughts weren't good ones, so I interrupted. I placed a finger on his chin and raised it to face me. "Ichi, you don't do that anymore. That's not you. That fucker means nothing—"

"How can you touch me so willingly?"

I stopped, noting the sadness in his voice. My voice lowered, and his utter uncertainty broke my heart. "Why? Is it weird to you?..."

Despite my efforts he looked down at the floor again, wrapping an arm around his waist. "When you and I are…together, everywhere you touch…" He hid beneath his long, orange bangs. "It's already been touched before. S-Someone has a-already... _been_ with me like that."

He swallowed nervously, and it seemed to take every ounce of his will to turn his gaze back to mine. "A-Are you really okay with that?"

I observed his countenance, his sadness, his fear of betrayal. When he'd once been emotionless and made of stone, Ichigo now had incredibly expressive eyes. He thought this would be the moment I changed my mind, the moment I said, _"It does bother me, I'm done."_

Little did Ichigo know our roles were reversed. Me? I'd _never_ leave Ichigo, not if someone begged me, bribed me, or threatened me. Ichigo was mine, and as long as I could keep him I would.

But what if Ichigo was scared of commitment? What if one day he decides he doesn't want to move forward with me, that he just wants to stop what we're doing and part as friends? Would I be able to handle it?

"It doesn't disgust me, not at all. Every inch of you is perfect, scarred or not. I don't want to leave you, _ever._ I want to see you smile when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake. I want to see you cheer for your sisters when they graduate from high school. I want to see the beautiful wrinkles on your face when I grow old with you." I couldn't help diving in for a swift, fierce kiss, and Ichigo was quick to catch on. "I want _every_ part of you so never, _never_ question my devotion for you, or how intensely I feel about you." I kissed him again, but softly, tenderly. I stared into his chocolate and caramel eyes. "I belong to you in every single way, and I hope you feel the same."

Ichigo now smiled softly, eyes glazed with unshed tears. He took my hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss it softly. "I-I had a feeling you'd say something like that."

I returned his smile, glad his confidence in me hadn't waned. I wasn't so fickle, so damn _stupid_ that I'd give up someone as perfect Ichigo.

He continued. "Grimm…I'm ready."

I took back my hand to instead grab one of his, kissing each of his fingers. "Ready for what?"

He watched me, his gaze almost mesmerized as my tongue flashed out lightly against his palm. His voice was full of conviction.

"Sex."

My tongue stopped mid-movement.

My brain rewinded and replayed the single word he just spoke. I did not hear that right. I did not hear that right. I _definitely_ did _not_ hear that right.

"…What?"

"I want to have sex with you."

…It…It appears I heard that right.

"Ichi…" I began, licking my suddenly very, very dry lips. "T-That's a big step. A-Are you sure y-you're ready?" Expressing my feelings moments ago had come out so smoothly and without a hitch, but when I thought of Ichigo naked I suddenly stutter and act like a hormonal teenager?

Gods, I hope he doesn't look down to see my boner.

He nods, gaze never leaving me. "I…I know this seems abrupt, but I've been thinking about this for a while now. There's no way I'll want anyone but you, and I want, I want…" It looked like he was trying to find the right words. "I want to be _connected_ with you. Physically. Officially."

His finger hooks my belt loop, pulling me a little closer. Our faces are inches apart, and he says quietly, "I'm ready if you're ready."

I can feel my cheeks burn with excitement, and all words have left me. All I can do is nod.

I lead him to the bedroom.

XxXxXxX

I'm kissing him as I always have, but this feels different, so fucking different. My stomach felt like it was going to explode with nervousness and anticipation and all the other thousand emotions I was feeling. This was going to happen, this was _actually going to happen._

I had him leaned against the inside of the bedroom door, my own body towering over his. I soon left his lips to nibble on his jaw, his ear, the base of his neck. He moaned softly.

I picked him up and carried him to the bed, plopping him onto the soft mattress before climbing in on top of him. I didn't resume our kissing, not yet.

I ran a hand through his thick hair. "Ichi…I've thought about this moment a lot, too. Do you…" I didn't know how to word it. I didn't want to offend him, and I didn't want to make him feel weak.

But that wasn't the way I _meant_ it, damn it.

I swallowed nervously. "I'm…I'm not going to 'top' you every time. That's not how love works. Do you…do you want to top first?"

I had a feeling he knew why I was asking. When he'd performed his job he was only ever penetrated, _hurt._ Is that how we wanted our first time to be? What if he had a flashback? He said he was ready, and I believed him, but maybe it was inevitable? Maybe his past would never truly go away…?

He didn't hesitate as he shook his head. "No, Grimm," he said. He fisted his hands in my collar and pulled me down closer to him. "It's _because_ of them that I want you to do it first. Make them go away, replace all those men with something better." He had continued inching me forward as he spoke, and now his lips rested right beside my ear. "And then I'll fuck you hard into the mattress later."

Chills ran down my spine, and my dick wedged up tightly against the front of my pants. I grinned, deep in arousal. "Sounds good to me, dirty boy." I licked my lips mischievously, my eyes dancing along his body.

Towering over him, I was excited to see his reaction. To watch every emotion that crossed his expression and every moan that escaped his lips as I plunged into him. It would be heaven. His body would be my paradise.

I was quick to strip off his clothes, and he did the same to mine. We participated in plenty of foreplay before I finally grabbed his leg, hoisting it up so that the crook of his knee rested on the top of my shoulder. The movement spread his legs farther, and Ichigo yelped at the change in position, his cheeks bright red.

I could barely focus on his face, though. It was beautiful, truly truly beautiful but, at this moment, his body…

Soon I was going to be inside of his body.

Almost reverently, my hand reached down until a finger was resting innocently against his hole. I looked up to meet Ichigo's eyes. Those eyes, that were watching me with the most love and desire I have ever seen in my life.

I asked, "M-May I?" My voice sounded weak and heavy with arousal. I was desperate, more than desperate, but I still wanted his consent. _Needed_ it.

Ichigo nodded fervently. "Ye-Yeah."

I nodded, my eyes trailing back to his puckered, alluring hole. With all the foreplay and sexual activities we've participated in, I'd always avoided his hole. I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to bring back bad memories. But now…now was different.

Without hesitating I slipped in a finger. Ichigo's breath hitched, and I almost gasped at how hot this body beneath me was. It was like a cavern, so hot and tight it was trying to clamp my fucking finger off.

I was so curious about the insides of this kid beneath me, so I moved my finger around, exploring him.

"Ah, f-fuck," he grunted. He was sweating beneath me, and he gasped loudly when I ran into a bundle of nerves (research had previously informed me this was the prostate. I memorized its location so I could be sure to hit it a thousand times in a thousand different ways). I did it again, and it produced the same noise that inevitably went straight to my cock.

I slipped in another finger, immediately starting to scissor them. They worked and stretched him, and I watched as he helplessly squirmed under me. God, I was so hard. I was so fucking turned on. I was so fucking dying to be inside of him right now.

But I'd be patient. This was Ichigo, after all. With him I had to make everything perfect.

I pumped him a little while longer until I couldn't hold it anymore. My dick was about to burst and I really, really needed to be inside him.

"Ichi, c-can I enter you now?"

He groaned, arching his back. "I-If you don't, I-I'll—" He was interrupted by his own moan when I hit his prostrate with both my fingers. "I'll s-slit your throat."

That was a yes if I've ever heard one.

I removed my fingers, and Ichigo gasped. I resituated myself, and I made both of Ichigo's legs rest on my shoulders. We've fooled around enough for me to know this kid was _plenty_ flexible. What I wanted to do…I knew he could do.

I scooted forward and got into position. His legs were spread, and I situated my penis to rest lightly against his hole.

I watched Ichigo's face the whole time as I entered him, agonizingly slow. His teeth dug in to his bottom lip, and he suppressed a groan that I so badly wanted to hear.

His eyes were clinched shut, and I patted his cheek firmly. "Open your eyes. I want to see your eyes."

I was fully sheathed inside of him now, and I waited. He reluctantly opened his eyes. My heart skipped a bit as I looked into the chocolate and caramels that shone with lust and love and everything I've ever wanted to see in his eyes.

I pulled myself out then slid back in. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tightening his grip as I increased my speed.

But I was still teasing him. This wasn't that fast, barely medium-speed, and I could tell that he could tell. This was enough to stay aroused, but hardly enough to get off.

I stopped rocking altogether.

His response was immediate.

"F- _Fuck,_ Grimm, _move,"_ he groaned. He sounded incredibly sexually frustrated, and I smirked, chuckling.

It was funny, but it was also not. This was my first time having sex with Ichigo. I was finally _inside_ him. We were finally _one._

But…you only had sex with someone for the first time _once._ And that made me oddly sad.

I've had sex with more people than I could count, but Ichigo was so special to me. I wanted this _moment_ to be special. I wanted it to last a lifetime.

I still didn't move. My hard dick rested inside of Ichigo's hole, and we remained chest-to-chest, his legs impossibly stretched out beside my arms.

My head hovered directly over his, and he hissed, wrapping his hand into a fist before hitting me with it.

 _"Grimmjow,"_ he growled, his cheeks red and pupils dilated.

"What?" I asked innocently. I tried to keep a straight face, but I was so damn aroused I doubt it worked.

" _Move,_ damn it." Ichigo bucked his hips into my cock. Stars flashed before my eyes, and a low moan escaped my lips. _Fuck._ If he did that again my self-restraint would be out the window.

When I'd recovered enough to speak I refused, shaking my head. "I don't want to. Not quite yet."

He rolled his eyes. "Fuck, _why?"_

He was breathing hard, his chest going in and out with his heavy pants.

I explained. "Because this is my first time having sex with you. I've wanted to do this for so long, and I want to savor this. Once I come it's all over."

Ichigo looked up at me like that was the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

He leaned his head forward, and suddenly his gaze was a thousand times more seductive and captivating than it was before. My cheeks immediately flushed, previously convinced that was impossible.

"Then how about this…," he began, whispering sensually. "After you come, we can just do it all over again." He punctuated the "again" with a hoist of his hips, the movement going straight to my heated, throbbing dick.

Oh fuck. Well that was an idea.

I literally melted into his touch. He was so fucking sexy, so fucking _mine,_ and I was going to fuck him until he couldn't walk. And he could do the same to me.

I grinned ferally. "As you wish."

With that I surged into him faster than I've ever thrusted in my life. His body lurched forward with every thrust, the slapping of flesh against flesh loud as I rammed into him over and over.

With every plunge moans escaped Ichigo's pretty lips, and that just compelled me to plunge farther and faster.

I was dead serious, Ichigo would _not_ be walking for a while.

I placed a bruising kiss onto his lips. That was fine. I'd just carry him everywhere.

His cherry lips emitted a moan into my mouth, and I eagerly swallowed the delicious noise. Never slowing my pace I took Ichigo's penis into my hand and pumped. More moans escaped, and I backed up a little to see the expression on his face.

"Your insides are amazing," I panted as I continued my thrusts, my body going in and out of his own. The constant momentum made it difficult for Ichigo to respond, but I didn't mind. I liked watching him struggle for words because of me.

"P-Prove it," he replied, gripping his legs around my torso. His burning eyes stared into my own. "And fuck me harder."

Ohhh fuck. This kid was going to be the death of me.

What a fucking great way to die.

I took his lips into my mouth in pure awe of him, the kiss messy and sloppy and amazing. He moaned into my mouth, and soon I was moving to nip and lick at his amazingly sensitive neck, only making him moan louder.

Not long after and we were coming in the most magnificent and mind-boggling way imaginable. He screamed my name, and I screamed his. I had never screamed anyone's name before, and now I would never scream anyone else's except Ichigo's.

We went at it three more times before we were satisfied (for now). Spent and pleasantly exhausted, I rested on Ichigo's chest while he laid flat on his back. His fingers carded through my hair, and it nearly lulled me to sleep. I nuzzled my nose into his body, cherishing his warmth.

I couldn't tell you how long we laid there, relishing in each other's presence.

"Grimm," Ichigo eventually said.

I _hm_ 'ed in question, my eyes still closed as I savored Ichigo's touch. He was still gently playing with my hair, and I could've sworn he was performing an act equivalent of a god. His touch felt heavenly.

"I…I think I love you, Grimm."

My eyes violently snapped open, and his hand in my hair was all but forgotten.

In less than an instant I was propped up on my elbows and staring intently at Ichigo. I must have heard wrong, I _definitely_ heard wrong. "What did you say?" My voice sounded weird, but I hardly noticed.

He swallowed nervously, but he never turned his gaze from me. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You treat me so well. You protect me, and you protect my sisters. Whenever I see you my heart races. The thought of being without you kills me." His bottom lip trembled, and he barely nodded his head. "I'm definitely in love with you."

I didn't need to hear anymore. I joined our lips, my fierce passion being conveyed through a heated kiss. My body was on a fire, but this was a good kind of burn.

And gods, I was so glad…Ichigo and I, we were both _genuinely_ in love with each other. It almost felt like a dream. I never thought I could be so happy before.

I spoke in between pecks to his lips. "I love you so fucking much, Ichi. I love you more than life itself. I want to hold you and hug you all day every day. I want you all to myself. Every smile, every moan, every shy smile as we kiss beneath the sheets. I want you _all,_ and I don't want to share." I ended with a longer kiss, my tongue twisting and entangling with his. "Please, Ichi, for the rest of our lives…be mine alone."

I hated Ichigo's past job. I hated the fact he had prostituted himself out to disgusting, perverted fuckers that only wanted him for his body. Ichigo was so much _more;_ fuck, he was _everything._ He was my everything, and I too wanted to be _his_ everything.

Ichigo drew me into another kiss, and I placed both my hands on his cheeks. His cheeks were wet.

We pulled away. Ichigo nodded, smiling that amazing smile. "Yes, yes."

A huge weight lifted from me, and I couldn't help but pull him into another kiss. I may have been crying, too, but I couldn't tell. In fact, everything except Ichigo seemed blurry and vague. Like suddenly everything else was miniscule, so goddamn trivial. Why would anything else be important if I had the one thing, the one person, that I couldn't live without?

I've always had money, but suddenly I felt like the richest person in the world. You couldn't beat what I had, because what I had was the one thing everyone wanted but could rarely have. Love. _True_ goddamn, 100% perfect love.

It was the one thing I thought an arrogant manwhore, son of a bitch like me would never obtain.

I pulled away from the kiss. I stared into the deep depths of his chocolate and caramel eyes. Those eyes used to hold so much sadness, so much darkness, but not anymore. Now they shone with a joy and love that was an exact parallel of my own.

My gaze never left his. My vision felt blurry but that didn't deter me. "Ichi, I don't have any flowers or shit, and I don't have a ring. I know this is a weird thing to say after sex but, but…" I swallowed. "Will you marry me?"

Ichigo was sobbing. He covered his mouth and soft tears spilled over his thin fingers.

"Yes."

And that single word was the beginning of the rest of our lives. Not everyone is granted a happy ending, but...somehow, for some reason, we were granted ours. And we were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Together.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Complettteeeee! I hope the ending was satisfying or cute enough. ^_^ I’m still not too great at endings.**

**But with endings, we must also speak of beginnings! I shall be publishing a new fanfic soon (by next week I’d say?) called “A Grimm Reality.” Same Grimm/Ichi vibes, fun yet dark dynamic. Maybe I’ll see you there!**

**Thanks all! Had a blast ^_^**


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